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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114111">King of a Wild Court</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42'>Zai42</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Grief/Mourning, King &amp; Knight AU, Kneeling, Loyalty, M/M, Temporary Character Death, Trials</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:08:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It is unheard of for a human to kneel at the throne of a goblin. Wilde has never cared overmuch about societal conventions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam &amp; Vesseek, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Approach the Throne</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> The only reason the human hadn’t been slain the second he rode into goblin lands was the white banner he flew, and the shackles on his wrists. (Symbolic, Grizzop assumed at the time. They were certainly elaborate enough, bedecked in jewels and inlaid with mother-of-pearl, the chain long enough that he could use his arms freely - surely they weren’t intended to be functional.) Grizzop allowed him to approach his throne, curious, only growing moreso when the human went to one knee, head bowed, and offered up his blade. Grizzop shared a glance with Vesseek over his head.</p>
<p> “I come to offer my loyalty as a knight,” he said, voice carrying even as he kept his head bowed. “I have no favors to offer you, sire. Only myself.”</p>
<p> “What’s your name?” Grizzop asked.</p>
<p> “Wilde.”</p>
<p> “Where do you hail from?”</p>
<p> “Far off,” Wilde said, and did not elaborate. Vesseek, still at their station by the door, arched an eyebrow.</p>
<p> “What sort of past would bring a human to kneel at my throne?” Grizzop pressed. Distrust wormed in his heart; Wilde wore no iconography he recognized, but the human kingdoms were many and varied, and besides that, surely a spy wouldn’t come bedecked in the symbols of their kingdom.</p>
<p> “A sordid one,” Wilde said, and Grizzop could hear the humorless shape his mouth had taken on. “I beg thee, sire - I leave my life in your hands, to do with as you see fit.”</p>
<p> Behind him, Vesseek shifted, tilting their head, leaning forward slightly on their spear, waiting for their king’s command, and for a moment Grizzop considered giving it, having this strange human skewered and buried and forgotten without fuss. In the end, pity didn’t stay his hand; curiosity did. “We have no accommodations for someone your size,” Grizzop said. “There’s an open prison cell that might fit you. Under guard, but free to leave, if you like.”</p>
<p> “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Wilde said, and if he was offended by Grizzop’s offer, it didn’t show in his tone.</p>
<p> “Rise, then,” Grizzop said, and gestured at Vesseek. “My captain will see you settled.”</p>
<p> The look Vesseek was giving Grizzop was smoothed into neutrality when Wilde turned to them; they bowed, the very picture of respect, and Grizzop suspected he would be getting an earful when they returned. For now he watched them lead Wilde out towards the prison, frowning beneath his helm, and sank back against the high back of his throne, deep in thought.</p>
<hr/>
<p> For the next three days, the human kept mostly to himself. He tended to his horse and explored the city under armed guard; the afternoon of the second day, he inquired about books, and, when brought a historical account, a play, and a collection of short stories, finished them all by nightfall. Vesseek informed Grizzop he had been writing, though when asked if he needed to send a letter, he had only laughed darkly and said, “I’ve no one to send one to, but thank you.”</p>
<p> The white flag on his horse had been folded away; the shackles on his wrists remained.</p>
<p> On the fourth day of his new knight’s stay, Grizzop went to meet with him in person. He found Wilde, accompanied by his guard, at the river’s edge, watching the sunrise. When they noticed him, the guard snapped into a sharp salute, and Wilde swept into a low bow. “A moment alone, Tzak, with my noble knight?” Grizzop said. Tzak grinned widely, dipped into a brief curtsy, and darted off in the direction of the prison, tossing Wilde an amused look over her shoulder as she went.</p>
<p> Wilde remained bowed. Grizzop arched an eyebrow and wondered if he was being mocked. “Rise,” he said; he scrutinized Wilde’s face for some sign of insincerity as he rose, but there was little emotion there at all, only focus. “Have your lodgings been to your liking?”</p>
<p> “Yes, my king,” Wilde said. “Thank you for your hospitality.”</p>
<p> Grizzop frowned behind his helm, fairly certain that he was being mocked now. “I have a task for you,” he said.</p>
<p> “I am yours to command, sire.”</p>
<p> Grizzop gestured to the dark edge of the forest, out over the river, where mist was just starting to evaporate in the early red light. “Deep in the woods,” he said, “there is a treasure, hidden away, sealed in truesilver, spun of sapphire, guarded by the shadows themselves. Find it for me, for I would have it.”</p>
<p> “Then it shall be yours,” Wilde said, bowing his head once more. “I leave at your word, sire.”</p>
<p> “Go, then,” Grizzop said, waving a hand. “I await your return.”</p>
<p> A few minutes later, Grizzop stood at the river’s edge again, watching Wilde ride off into the forest. Behind him, Vesseek leaned on their spear. “You think he’ll make it back?”</p>
<p> Grizzop shrugged absently. “We’ll see,” he said. “One less thing to worry about if he doesn’t.” He lingered a moment at the riverbank, watching the fog burn off from the forest floor. He nodded and turned away, looping an arm with Vesseek’s. “In the meantime,” he said, grinning, “you can do something other than update me on his every move.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> It was three more days before Wilde returned.</p>
<p> Vesseek lead him into the throne room, a wry smile on their face, and bowed, one leg kicked jauntily forward, gesturing for Wilde to approach the king. Grizzop arched an eyebrow behind his helm, bowing his head as Wilde knelt before him, his eyes flashing red beneath the crown of antler and bone on his brow.</p>
<p> Wilde reached into the pack at his side and delicately produced a single flower, nearly unnatural in its dark coloration, its petals the blackest blue. It had been dug up from the earth, a sphere of soil clinging to its dark roots. “The shadows send their regards, Your Majesty,” Wilde said; Grizzop could almost swear there was a note of humor in his voice.</p>
<p> Wilde offered up his prize and Grizzop accepted it, touching one petal with tenderness. “Tell me your story,” he said. “How did you come to steal this away?”</p>
<p> Wilde looked up, and his expression was free from guile or anything else, carefully guarded. “I asked permission,” he said. When Grizzop tilted his head, he continued, “When I came across the clearing, the moon was overhead, and lit the clearing almost as bright as midday.” His mouth twisted into a wry almost-smile. “Behind me was a fair bit darker. Your shadows snuck up on me.”</p>
<p> Grizzop stroked along a petal. “She does that,” he said fondly. “And then?”</p>
<p> “We fought,” Wilde said. “She demanded to know my business.”</p>
<p> “In those words?”</p>
<p> More of a smile now. “Ah, no. Her words were ‘Oi, mate, dunno what you want but go away.’”</p>
<p> Grizzop leaned forward, resting his head on one hand. “And what did you tell her?”</p>
<p> “That my king sought the treasure in her clearing. She didn’t believe me, at first. She demanded I prove it.”</p>
<p> “And how did you?”</p>
<p> “I laid down my sword and swore on my life.”</p>
<p> Vesseek, behind Wilde’s back, arched an eyebrow. “Does your life mean so little to you?” Grizzop asked, frowning slightly. “You offer it up freely enough.”</p>
<p> “It is all I have to offer,” Wilde said. “And it convinced her well enough. She allowed me to take a blossom, provided I send along her well wishes.”</p>
<p> “Well wishes?”</p>
<p> “Ah,” Wilde said, and hesitated for the first time since Grizzop had met him. “She says, ‘Wotcher, Grizzop, you picked a right weirdo this time.’ Sire.”</p>
<p> Grizzop grinned widely, grateful for the mask of bone hiding his expression from Wilde. “You’ve done well, my noble knight,” he said. “Away with you, then, until I have need of you once more.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The River's End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With the Hunter's Moon approaching, Grizzop sends his knight on a new trial.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> The flower was planted in the public gardens, in a secluded corner where the moon would shine on it. Grizzop knelt beside it, cradling it in his palm, deep in thought.</p>
<p> “You’re impressed,” Vesseek said.</p>
<p> “I wouldn’t go that far,” Grizzop muttered.</p>
<p> “What were you expecting to happen?”</p>
<p> Grizzop considered this. “I suppose I was expecting him to get himself killed,” he said eventually, turning away from the blossom to face Vesseek. “Or not find it at all. Come back with some shiny rock the humans like so much.”</p>
<p> Vesseek snorted. “So you’re impressed,” they said again.</p>
<p> “I’m - curious,” Grizzop allowed. “I still don’t trust him,” he added. “But he isn’t what I was expecting.”</p>
<p> Vesseek hummed, shrugging. “He’s still a human,” they said, and Grizzop couldn’t argue with that.</p>
<hr/>
<p> The Hunter’s Moon was approaching, and so, thinking of Vesseek and the preparations they would be in charge of, Grizzop summoned Wilde to his throne once more. “I have another task for you,” he said, then got up and gestured for Wilde to follow him, at least partly so that Wilde would stop kneeling.</p>
<p> He lead him down to where the river fed into the lake, pointing out at the rocks visible above the water’s surface. “The water’s low,” he said matter-of-factly. “Find out why.”</p>
<p> “Of course, sire.” Wilde gazed out at the lake for a moment, hesitating as if there were something he wasn’t certain he should say.</p>
<p> “Speak freely,” Grizzop said, waving a hand.</p>
<p> “You...seemed displeased,” Wilde said, speaking very carefully, “when I told you I had offered up my life as proof of my service.”</p>
<p> “It’s your life to do with as you see fit,” Grizzop said, and watched curiously as some faint flicker of emotion crossed Wilde’s face, quickly smothered. “Though your service isn’t worth much if you die.”</p>
<p> “No,” Wilde said. “It is...forward of me to ask...”</p>
<p> For a moment, he fell silent. “Ask,” Grizzop said, in a tone that brooked no argument.</p>
<p> “If I could take some token,” Wilde said, and looked out over the lake again. “Some symbol of you and your court.”</p>
<p> Grizzop let out a startled laugh at this; Wilde, still staring out at the lake, flushed pink. “A token,” Grizzop said, doing his best to sound concilliatory. “Very well.” He thought for a moment, then reached up and gently unthreaded one of his earrings, bone and iron, and held it up for Wilde to take. “Here,” he said; Wilde plucked it gently from his palm, holding it up to examine it. “My token, oh noble knight.”</p>
<p> “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Wilde said, bowing deeply. He clipped the earring to his collar, smoothed a hand over it, his fingertips lingering on the carved bone. “I hope I will wear it well.”</p>
<p> Grizzop waved him off. “Don’t hope,” he said. “Go and take action.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> Wilde returned the night before the moon was full; the festival of the Hunter’s Moon was in full swing, loud and boisterous, the streets teeming with merchant’s stalls, games, fortune tellers. Grizzop had won a game of archery and was relinquishing his prize to a wide-eyed gaggle of children when Vesseek nudged him. “Your human returns,” they said in his ear, slightly too loud from an abundance of wine, nodding towards the other end of the street.</p>
<p> Wilde stood out among the crowd - tall even by human standards, somehow seeing him surrounded by goblins made him seem awkward, less intimidating and more gangling, uncomfortable in his own skin. Grizzop smirked and started towards him.</p>
<p> “So you’ve returned,” Grizzop said.</p>
<p> Wilde turned, then seemed briefly stunned before dropping into his usual bow. “Y-yes, Your Majesty,” he said; he sounded flustered. “Forgive me for not finding you sooner, I - I was looking for antlers.”</p>
<p> “Oh,” Grizzop said. He patted the top of his head; it was true he had forgone his usual mask and crown, replacing it with a circlet of traditional wildflowers. “This is the first time you’ve seen my face,” he realized with vague amusement.</p>
<p> “It is, sire.” Wilde straightened. It was difficult to tell, in the low light, but he seemed to still be blushing. “You’re busy,” he said, glancing around at the bustling streets. “I can retire for the night, and report to you in the morning.”</p>
<p> “Why do that?” Grizzop did his best not to jump; Vesseek had somehow snuck up behind him and had tossed an arm around his shoulders. They grinned up at Wilde, their expression open and wily and wine-warm. “Come tell us a story.” They gestured behind them, to the group of children Grizzop had gifted his carnival prize to, watching their conversation with wide, enraptured eyes. “You have a captive audience.”</p>
<p> Wilde glanced at Grizzop, who grinned widely. “It’s a good idea,” he said. “It’s a celebration, after all. Are you going to sit in your cell just listening to the festival all night?”</p>
<p> Even in the dark, Grizzop could see Wilde blushing now, but he smiled, and it was the sincerest expression Grizzop had seen on his face yet. “I’ve been told I can spin a decent enough tale,” he said. “I would be happy to, if it pleases Your Majesty.”</p>
<p> Which was how, scant minutes later, Wilde was seated by one of the bonfires, surrounded by an enthralled group of young goblins, telling the story of his daring expedition into the depths of the forest. “I followed the river,” he was saying, “and as I went deeper and deeper into the forest, it became shallower and shallower. I was convinced it was being swallowed up by some great monster.”</p>
<p> (Grizzop, who nearly felt bad for knowing the twist to this particular tale, hid his laugh behind a hand, coughing delicately. Vesseek shushed him.)</p>
<p> “When I came to the river’s source, it was nearly dry,” Wilde said. “And out on one of the rocks was a river spirit.” (Around him there were gasps. Grizzop could swear Wilde preened, though perhaps it was a trick of the flickering firelight.) “So I approached him. The water was so low by now I could walk across the lake floor and barely get my boots wet.”</p>
<p> “Was he scary?” one of the little ones asked, clinging to the stuffed salamander Grizzop had won.</p>
<p> “Not at all,” Wilde said. “A little grumpy, perhaps.” He glanced up, smiling faintly, then met Grizzop’s eye, and looked quickly away. “He asked what I was doing at his lakebed, and I told him I had been sent by the goblin king.” (Another round of gasps, and a few heads turning to look at Grizzop, who grinned widely and waved.) “I asked him why the water had dried up, and he...well, at first he didn’t believe me, and then he laughed.” Wilde glanced again at Grizzop, but now his expression was its usual unreadable mask. “And he told me, when he finally believed me, that the river would fill again when the rains came, the night after the Hunter’s Moon.”</p>
<p> At Grizzop’s side, Vesseek let out a short little huff of a laugh. “He told the truth,” they murmured, leaning against Grizzop. They raised their eyebrows at him. “Not a great ending to the story.”</p>
<p> “No,” Grizzop agreed softly. He watched Wilde finish his tale, his hands moving with his words.</p>
<p> “Was he telling the truth?” asked one of the older goblins. “Will it really rain? What if he was lying?”</p>
<p> “I don’t believe he was lying,” Wilde said. “I imagine it will rain when it always does, and if it doesn’t, then I’m sure...” He looked at Grizzop through his eyelashes. “I’m sure our good king will know what to do.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> Grizzop walked Wilde back to the prison that night, after reassuring Vesseek he would be fine if they didn’t accompany him. (“More fine than if you did,” Grizzop said, shoving Vesseek in the direction of bed. “Don’t cry to me when you’re hungover tomorrow, either.”)</p>
<p> “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” Grizzop asked, hands behind his head, gazing up at the nearly full moon. It thrummed in his veins, a nearly physical sensation; tomorrow was the hunt, and Grizzop’s whole being buzzed in anticipation of it.</p>
<p> “I did,” Wilde said. “It’s been...some time since I have been welcome at any sort of celebration.”</p>
<p> Grizzop eyed him. He sensed Wilde’s hesitation around the subject, and wondered if he was meant to press, or if it was an act of trust just to divulge that much. “You’ll have to come to the feast tomorrow,” he said, his tone forced into something light and jovial. “Perhaps you can tell another story.”</p>
<p> “Perhaps.”</p>
<p> Their steps slowed as the prison came into view. “Was there anything else your river spirit wanted to pass along?” Grizzop asked.</p>
<p> Wilde considered for a moment. “He did threaten to drown me if my intentions were impure,” he said. “And he bids you be careful.”</p>
<p> “Sounds right,” Grizzop said, grinning, glancing out at the river. “I’m always careful.”</p>
<p> “Of course, sire,” said Wilde, tactfully.</p>
<p> For long moments, they stood beneath the moonlight. “Come to the feast tomorrow night,” Grizzop said finally. “It would hardly be hospitable to leave you alone on the night of a festival.”</p>
<p> “Of course, sire,” Wilde said. Then, slightly more genuine, “Thank you.”</p>
<p> Grizzop nodded decisively. “Then sleep well, noble knight,” he said, “and I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hunter's Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Hunter's Moon comes and goes, and there are things to take care of as winter approaches.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> The moon was fat on the horizon when the hunting party rode back into town, their carts laden with game - braces of rabbits and pheasants, a few small deer, and the one enormous boar Grizzop and Vesseek had spent the better part of the day tracking. Grizzop had a fresh gash across one arm, courtesy of its tusks. He thrummed with energy still, his mouth in a grin that bared all his teeth.</p>
<p> Vesseek ushered him to see a proper healer and sat with him as he was stitched up. “That boar will last through the winter,” Vesseek said, lounging on a vacant cot. They watched as Grizzop rolled his shoulder, testing the give of the stitches up his arm. “Think you’ll live?” they asked, arching one eyebrow, mouth twitching in a grin.</p>
<p> “I’ll soldier on,” Grizzop replied. He accepted Vesseek’s hand as he hopped down from his cot. “Shall we join in the festivities?” he asked. “I could win you another prize.”</p>
<p> “Of course, sire.”</p>
<p> The festivities were more subdued than they had been the night before - it was the last night of celebrations, after all, and the city had taken on a calmer tone, languid and relaxed, one last indulgence before they would need to begin preparing for winter in earnest. A quartet of musicians had struck up a song down by the riverbank, something slow and sweet and longing, and this was where Grizzop found Wilde, hanging back from the gathered crowd, but obviously listening intently, eyes fixed on the band. As always, he bowed when Grizzop approached.</p>
<p> “Your hunt went well, I’ve heard, sire,” Wilde said, straightening again. A flicker of emotion crossed his face as he glanced at Grizzop’s arm. “You’re hurt.” He touched the shackle on one wrist, just briefly.</p>
<p> “Not badly,” Grizzop said, rolling his arm again. “It will make for a good scar.” Wilde opened his mouth as if to speak, then glanced away, back to the musicians, another flicker of emotion passing over his usually inscrutable face. He was practically sentimental - perhaps it was the festival, Grizzop thought. “You can speak freely, noble knight,” he said, grinning.</p>
<p> “I was only curious,” Wilde said, “why Your Majesty would decline magical healing.”</p>
<p> Grizzop laughed, smothering it quickly when Wilde glanced away again. “The scar’s the point,” he said. “It’s not life-threatening, it was a good hunt - it would be a shame to magic the scar away when it makes for a good story.”</p>
<p> Wilde smiled, faint and quick, a flash of sunlight on deep water. “Fair enough,” he said softly. His hand went again to the cuff at his wrist, but if he noticed Grizzop watching him, he gave no indication of it.</p>
<hr/>
<p> The rains did come the next afternoon, after a long, dreary morning of the sky growing greyer and heavier with every hour. These were not soft summery rains; the droplets were needle sharp and ice cold, but they would fill the river before winter came, at least, so they were welcome enough.</p>
<p> There was work to be done, and for a week of frigid rain, Grizzop was preoccupied. He thought of Wilde only once, on the second night of the storm, when he asked Vesseek if the prison cells were properly insulated against the cold wind.</p>
<p> (“Well enough,” Vesseek replied. “Are you thinking of rehousing our guest?”</p>
<p> “There’s nowhere else his size,” Grizzop said, but he was aware of the doubt in his own tone, little though it pleased him.</p>
<p> “I’ll send for him to be given extra blankets,” Vesseek said, clapping a hand on Grizzop’s shoulder.)</p>
<p> It was the day the rains stopped when the thing in the woods attacked. The roadways needed to be cleared of debris that had been scattered by the storm, some minor repairs had to be made to buildings, and Grizzop was in the center of town lending a hand. Wilde was nearby, magnanimously allowing a group of children - many of whom had listened to his story during the festival - to direct him in clearing away the heavier branches it would have taken two or more goblins to move. Grizzop watched from the roof he was, ostensibly, thatching; Wilde smiled more easily, more genuinely, around the excitable gaggle of children following him around, which was, Grizzop thought, fair enough. It was a good smile, he thought too. It seemed a shame it was so rare.</p>
<p> The still was broken by a sudden shout from across the river; Grizzop looked up and, from his high vantage point, caught sight of Vesseek bolting from the woods, someone slumped over their back, limp and unmoving. Grizzop leapt from his roof, barely registered Wilde helping to break his fall, and ran towards the bridge. He grabbed Vesseek as they skidded to a halt, turning to put himself between them and the forest they were fleeing; Wilde came to stand next to them, one hand on the pommel of his sword, eyes scanning the treeline.</p>
<p> “What happened?” Grizzop asked; it was Tzak, thrown over Vesseek’s shoulders, and Grizzop helped them ease her to the ground, his hands glowing silver with healing magic. Whatever had happened, she’d been attacked from behind, blood soaking into her ruined leather armor, her breathing coming in ragged gasps, her eyes open but far away. Grizzop laid his hands along the gash in her back and carefully began to knit it closed.</p>
<p> “I don’t know,” Vesseek said. They were shaking; with adrenaline or rage or fear, Grizzop couldn’t tell. “We were checking the traps, making sure nothing had been washed away, when I heard her scream. I didn’t see what attacked her; I just heard it run away.”</p>
<p> Tzak shifted, blinking slowly as Grizzop finished healing her. “You’re all right,” Grizzop said, patting gently at her back. “Vesseek brought you home.”</p>
<p> “Thanks,” Tzak croaked. Grizzop offered her a hand and she took it, pulling herself into a sitting position. “There’s something in the woods,” she said, managing a weak, wry smile. “I didn’t get a good look, but it was - ” Here she paused, glancing at Wilde with an almost guilty expression on her face. “It was big,” she said, looking away again, and Grizzop understood. He looked at Wilde, and couldn’t tell if he had caught on. His mask had returned.</p>
<p> “Take her to get looked at by a real healer,” Grizzop said, helping Tzak to her feet. Vesseek nodded, looping an arm around her waist. “And meet me back here in an hour. We’ll hunt it down.”</p>
<p> “But you - ” Wilde said, then stopped abruptly, as if his protest had taken even himself by surprise.</p>
<p> Grizzop looked up at him, one eyebrow arching sharply. “Speak,” he said coolly.</p>
<p> “I apologize, sire,” Wilde said, more restrained now, if barely. “It’s just that you’re still hurt.”</p>
<p> Grizzop glanced at Vesseek and Tzak who were watching this exchange with wide eyes - not shocked, but curious. Just as bad as the little ones at the festival, Grizzop thought, lips twisting with reluctant amusement. He waved them off irritably, and waited until they had cleared the bridge before turning back to Wilde. “The woods need to be safe for my people,” Grizzop said. “If something is threatening them there, it is my responsibility to take care of it.”</p>
<p> “Of course, sire, but...”</p>
<p> “If you really doubt I can take care of myself” - and Wilde looked striken, but Grizzop pressed on - “then be comforted knowing Vesseek will be at my side.”</p>
<p> “That’s not what I...” Wilde paused, gathered himself. “I am, of course, more than confident that Your Majesty is capable of handling himself,” he said. “And there is none I would trust more with Your Majesty’s safety than Sai Vesseek.”</p>
<p> “But?” Grizzop prompted flatly, crossing his arms over his chest, very aware of the stitches beneath his hand. The damn things were meant to come out in two days, anyway.</p>
<p> “I beg thee, sire, allow me to accompany you as well,” Wilde said, and some of the edge to his formality had dulled. “If...” He trailed off, turned to look at the dark smudge of trees in the distance. “If <em>my</em> people are threatening yours, sire, then I have my own responsibilities.”</p>
<p> Grizzop uncrossed his arms, searching Wilde’s face for some deception, some sign of malicious deceit finally come to bear. Wilde met his gaze levelly. Slowly, Grizzop nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Be quick. We leave when I return to this bridge, with or without you.”</p>
<p> “Thank you, sire,” Wilde said, bowing deeply before heading briskly in the direction of his prison cell. Grizzop watched him go, frowning to himself, but decided there was no time to regret his choices now; he had preparations of his own to make.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Clearing at the End of the Path</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The hunt for the monster in the forest.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wilde and Vesseek were already waiting at the bridge when Grizzop arrived. They had been bowed towards each other, apparently deep in conversation, and snapped upright on their mounts as Grizzop rode up to them. Wilde’s expression was a wall of perfect, blank innocence; Vesseek looked, in spite of their best efforts, guilty. Grizzop, face hidden beneath a proper war helm, practical and unadorned, rolled his eyes. “Gossip about me when we’re finished,” he said as he passed them. “We have work to do.”</p>
<p> The woods were silent, unnaturally so; Vesseek’s wolf and Grizzop’s cheetah made little noise as they padded through the undergrowth, and the hoof beats of Wilde’s horse seemed distant and soft. Even the rainwater dripping from the canopy sounded muffled.</p>
<p> Grizzop could feel the tension in his mount and ran a soothing hand down her neck, then settled back and laid his bow across his lap, an arrow nocked and ready to fire.</p>
<p> The woods were as busy in the winters as they were the rest of the year, with traps laid to catch fish and smaller game, taps on the trees to collect sap, pathways marked out that would be kept clear of snow to make for easier forage. These signs of life and cultivation were in pieces when they came across them. Vesseek examined the broken mechanism of a trap and passed it to Grizzop. “This wasn’t the storm,” they said. “This was deliberate.”</p>
<p> Grizzop turned the shattered piece over in his hands, frowning. “You think they’re coming closer?” he asked. “The Mars lot?”</p>
<p> Vesseek’s eyes flicked over to Wilde, just for a moment, before they answered. “It’s possible,” they said. “They’d be breaking the treaty.”</p>
<p> “It wouldn’t be the first time,” Wilde said softly, and Grizzop looked up at him in surprise. His face was drawn in distaste, his eyes on the mechanism in Grizzop’s hands. He glanced up, caught Grizzop’s eye, and twisted his mouth in the humorless ghost of a smile. “To a certain type of person,” he said, not without bitterness, “treaties are merely suggestions.”</p>
<p> “We’re aware,” Grizzop said, more sharply than he meant to. He forced himself to to let out a slow breath, urged his mount back onto the trail. “Is theirs the kingdom you hail from, noble knight?”</p>
<p> “No,” Wilde said. He nudged his horse forward, falling into place beside Grizzop. “But I’ve found that they are all much the same.”</p>
<p> “And yet you left,” Grizzop said. He examined Wilde out of the corner of his eye. His spine had gone straight, his jaw set in that way he had when he began to only speak in short, formal sentences. But his eyes were distant, perhaps even nostalgic. Grizzop buzzed with the urge to press, to demand an answer, but Wilde, luckily perhaps, spoke before he could.</p>
<p> “I did,” he said. “Though given the alternative was execution, I’m not certain it could be called much of a choice at all, let alone a brave one.” Grizzop turned to face Wilde fully now, eyebrows raised; Vesseek, on Wilde’s other side, wore a similar expression. Wilde stared resolutely ahead, a faint flush of color starting to show where he wasn’t hidden under his armor, as if he hadn’t expected to garner such a reaction from this admission.</p>
<p> “What did you do?” Vesseek asked eventually.</p>
<p> “Vesseek,” Grizzop said sternly, as if he hadn’t been trying to find a way to word the question himself.</p>
<p> “It’s a long and complicated and unpleasant story,” Wilde said, eyes still fixed straight ahead. “One I would...prefer not to relate, if Your Majesty is amenable.”</p>
<p> Ah, there was that formality. Grizzop waved a deliberately carefree hand. “We’re busy anyway,” he said. “Best to keep our wits about us.”</p>
<p> They pressed deeper into the woods and found more evidence of tampering as they went. More broken traps, more markers torn apart. They came to the place where Tzak had been attacked and Grizzop frowned at the splashes of green blood growing tacky on the ground. He scanned the forest floor, caught sight of a few stray drips of blood heading off in the opposite direction from town, and nodded. “This way,” he said, and took the lead, bow in hand, ears straining for any sound. </p>
<hr/>
<p> It was another hour before the trail led to anything of note. They nearly lost it more than once, but Grizzop or Vesseek - and once, Vesseek’s wolf - always managed to find it again, and eventually they heard the hard crack of a whip. Grizzop had just enough time to register Wilde’s face go grim beneath his helm before he spurred his mount forward and left Wilde and Vesseek to catch up.</p>
<p> The clearing he burst into smoldered slightly, the grass scorched and still smoking, embers sputtering against the soaked earth. At the far end, a human in rust-colored armor had pinned a thrashing dragonling with a spear through a wing. Grizzop swung his bow up. “Oi, you! You know where you are?”</p>
<p> The human looked up, eyes narrowed. “Enlighten me, goblin,” he called.</p>
<p> Grizzop snorted in irritation; behind him, Wilde and Vesseek had entered the clearing to flank him. Grizzop watched the stranger’s eyes flicker over them, his expression closing off as he recalculated his chances. “You’re in <em>my</em> domain,” Grizzop said. “And from the trail of destruction we followed here, and the guard I had to knit together two hours ago, you are abusing my rather limited hospitality.”</p>
<p> The stranger gave a thin smile. “My truest apologies, goblin.” Wilde and Vesseek both went tense at that, but Grizzop hissed <em>hold!</em> and they gripped their weapons closer, but went obediently still. “I assure you, whatever destruction you saw, well.” The stranger shook his spear, once, and the dragonling hissed, free wing beating hard against the ground. “There is a monster in your woods.”</p>
<p> “That much is certain,” Grizzop said coolly. The stranger seemed to notice his distrust and frowned. “And my guard, was she attacked by a monster as well?”</p>
<p> “Perhaps,” the stranger said, “little goblins shouldn’t go wandering alone in the woods.” He tugged his spear free; the dragonling whined and curled up, licking delicately at the wound. The stranger looked over Grizzop again, then his eyes wandered over to Wilde. He arched an eyebrow. “Something...terrible could happen.”</p>
<p> Wilde drew his sword, and Grizzop let him. “And if you were brought to my throne room to stand trial - ” Grizzop began, and the stranger, perhaps predictably, charged. Grizzop leapt from his mount and fired an arrow at his legs, grinning with grim satisfaction as he stumbled, cursing, to one knee. Before he could recover, Vesseek had leveled their spear at his neck, eyes narrowed.</p>
<p> “I’d stay down if I were you,” they said, and the stranger glared, but didn’t move, dropping his weapon and glowering. Grizzop snorted and approached the dragonling.</p>
<p> “He’s lying,” the dragonling said, sounding so primly offended that Grizzop snorted. “I would never, <em>I</em> have <em>manners - ”</em></p>
<p> “I believe you,” Grizzop said, reaching for the dragonling’s injured wing, healing magic flowing between his fingers. “Where - ”</p>
<p> Behind him, Grizzop heard Vesseek cry out, and he whipped around to see them stumble to the forest floor, blood gushing from a broken nose; the stranger had taken their spear and was bolting forward. Grizzop snarled a curse, scrambling to nock an arrow.</p>
<p> There was the ringing of metal on metal; Wilde had appeared as if from nowhere, sword locked with the stranger’s spear, standing like an oak tree between him and Grizzop. His lips were pulled back in a snarl of his own, more expressive than Grizzop had ever seen him. For a moment, he forgot about his arrow, still gripped tight in his hand.</p>
<p> “Fool,” the stranger growled. He batted Wilde’s sword aside and gestured at the shackles on his wrists. “I would have freed you!”</p>
<p> Wilde laughed, bitter but with a seed of true amusement taking root somewhere in the sound. “No,” he said simply, “you would not.”</p>
<p> The stranger leapt forward; Grizzop swung his bow up; Wilde surged to meet him with a movement like a river through a broken dam, his blade slicing through a weak spot in the stranger’s armor and then out the other side, a pin through a bug, and for a moment the stranger only seemed shocked. Then he coughed blood and sank to the forest floor, a dead weight, suspended by Wilde’s sword until he yanked it free of his corpse with a wet scrape of metal on bone.</p>
<p> “Wilde,” Grizzop said. Then Wilde staggered to his knees, and Grizzop saw the tip of Vesseek’s spear buried deep in his chest. <em>“Wilde!”</em> he cried, and darted forward to catch him as he collapsed. Vesseek was at his side in an instant, as well as the dragonling, hovering over his shoulder anxiously.</p>
<p> “Can you heal him like you did me?” the dragonling asked. “He’ll be all right, won’t he?”</p>
<p> “He’ll live,” Grizzop said, a command as much as a reassurance. He glanced up at Vesseek, already gripping the haft of their spear, and nodded. They pulled. Wilde, swooning, went suddenly tense and choked back a scream, one hand coming up to clutch at Grizzop’s wrist. “Easy,” Grizzop growled.</p>
<p> His stores of magic were not quite depleted, but healing was not his greatest talent, and he had done so much of it in so little time. If he had needed to set an arrow alight, or strike a moving target from 100 paces, he could have - healing was harder, demanded more of him. He grit his teeth, feeling the tug of silvery magic in his veins as he poured what power he could into closing the wound in Wilde’s chest. <em>Lady,</em> he prayed desperately, <em>just enough. Just enough to bring him home. Please.</em></p>
<p> There was enough, if only just. The wound didn’t completely knit closed, but the flow of blood slowed to a trickle, and Wilde sagged in Grizzop’s arms, breathing hard. “Thank you,” he said raggedly. “My King.”</p>
<p> “Thank me when you’re home and patched up properly,” Grizzop snapped, worry making his tongue sharp. Wilde didn’t reply, but released his grip on Grizzop’s wrist.</p>
<p> With help from Vesseek and the dragonling, Grizzop managed to get Wilde into his saddle, carefully looping the thin chain of his shackles into his mount’s gear to keep him from falling over.</p>
<p> “Thank you for your help,” the dragonling said, eyeing Wilde with concern on his features. “If I can ever return the favor - ”</p>
<p> “It was nothing,” Grizzop said briskly, swinging into his own saddle. “Be safe.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> Later, when Wilde had been healed properly and sent to rest in his cell, Vesseek approached Grizzop in the empty throne room, going to one knee before him. “Sire,” they said. “I’m sorry,” they said, after a heavy pause. Grizzop realized with a start that they were shaking. “I put you in danger today by letting my guard down, and another of your knights was hurt because of it. Whatever punishment you see fit - ”</p>
<p> “Vesseek,” Grizzop said, trying and failing not to sound exasperated. “Stop it. Rise and look at me.” Vesseek looked up with wide, watery eyes, and Grizzop crossed over to them in two strides, pulled them to their feet, and engulfed them in a hug. “You got your nose broken, I think that’s punishment enough.”</p>
<p> Vesseek leaned into Grizzop’s touch. “Tzak says broken noses are dashing,” they said, and Grizzop could hear the faint touch of a smile in their voice. “I’m sorry,” they said again, less formal now, all aching sincerity. “I kept thinking what might have happened if - ”</p>
<p> “No point in that,” Grizzop said firmly. “I’m fine. Wilde - Wilde is fine.”</p>
<p> Vesseek pulled back to peer into Grizzop’s face. “He killed another human for you,” they said. “He could have betrayed us. You heard what that Mars knight said, he thought Wilde was going to side with him, and he didn’t.”</p>
<p> “I know,” Grizzop said, shifting. “So you trust him now, is that all it takes?”</p>
<p> “He stood between an enemy and my king and friend,” Vesseek said. <em>“You</em> started liking him because he picked a flower.”</p>
<p> “That’s not true,” Grizzop said, blushing. “Thank you for your council, Vesseek - ”</p>
<p> “ - should’ve seen yourself making eyes at him at the festival - ”</p>
<p><em> “Thank you,</em> Vesseek,” Grizzop said, ears lowering against his head, neck growing warm. Vesseek grinned widely at him. “As always your wisdom is appreciated,” Grizzop grumbled; Vesseek’s expression softened into an affectionate smile, and Grizzop found himself, however reluctantly, returning it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. As My King Commands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grizzop has come to a conclusion or two about his new knight.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope everyone's ready for a super fluffy update before October turns me into a full-time gremlin \o/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Grizzop entered the prison early the next morning to find Vesseek had beaten him there. They were leaned up against the wall of Wilde’s cell, grinning widely, and nodded their head in a bow when Grizzop entered. “Good morning, sire,” they singsonged, and their grin grew wider as Wilde stood hastily in order to drop into his usual bow. “I was just asking our guest how he slept. It’s getting colder.”</p>
<p> “That’s what I came here to discuss,” Grizzop said, eyeing Wilde as he straightened. “Vesseek, would you return to the palace and have them prepare a room? We may need to commission a bigger bed than we have available, as well.”</p>
<p> “Sire - ?” Wilde began.</p>
<p> “Of course!” Vesseek chirped, and snapped a sharp salute before darting out of the cell.</p>
<p> Grizzop watched them go, then glanced around the tiny cell, humming thoughtfully. “You travel light,” he said, turning in a slow circle. “It will make it easier to gather your things, at least. Is there anything pressing you’ll need made for you? A bed is the priority, of course, but other furniture, or clothes - ”</p>
<p> “Sire,” Wilde said, sounding flustered. Grizzop glanced at him over his shoulder. “I - I could hardly bring myself to impose more on your kindness,” he said eventually, when it became clear Grizzop was waiting for him to speak.</p>
<p> “I suppose you could dress in goblin sized clothes if you insist,” Grizzop said dryly, turning to face him fully, “though I imagine there would be a scandal.”</p>
<p> Wilde laughed, briefly, musically. “I’ve been the cause of far juicier scandals than that,” he said, then seemed to remember himself and cleared his throat. “I only mean - you have been more than hospitable enough, sire.”</p>
<p> Grizzop eyed him; his laughter had lit him up, for just a moment, made him brighter than he had been since he’d arrived, and even now his careful deference seemed - thinner, somehow. Less real. “Walk with me,” Grizzop said. “It will take Vesseek a while still to get your room prepared.”</p>
<p> The mornings were staying colder longer these days; Grizzop tugged his cloak closer around himself and glanced at Wilde out of the corner of his eye, making a note to have warmer clothes made for him whether he requested it or not.</p>
<p> “Is there something you wished to discuss, sire?” Wilde asked.</p>
<p> “I owe you my thanks for yesterday,” Grizzop said casually, looking out at the water as they approached the river. How often they ended up at the shoreline together, he mused, watching Wilde’s reflection in the water.</p>
<p> His knight lowered his eyes to the river’s surface, finding Grizzop’s gaze and holding it. “I’m sure Your Majesty would have been able to handle himself,” he said.</p>
<p> “Perhaps,” Grizzop said lightly. “But you served me well.”</p>
<p> Wilde’s hand went to his lapel, where Grizzop’s earring still gleamed. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” For a moment they stood in mutual silence; Wilde’s eyes turned towards the treeline, away from Grizzop’s reflection. “Sire,” he said, after a moment. “The knight in the woods - he served the kingdom of Mars.”</p>
<p> “He did.”</p>
<p> Wilde hesitated a moment, frowning. “I should have left him alive, then,” he said, almost to himself. Grizzop glanced at him. “There will be retaliation for this.”</p>
<p> Grizzop snorted. “By my bow or your blade, he was not going to leave my woods in one piece,” he said. “Let them come. I’ll cut them all down.”</p>
<p> Wilde glanced down at Grizzop, one eyebrow arching, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Forgive me if I insulted your valor, sire,” he said.</p>
<p> “Just don’t do it again,” Grizzop said, grinning widely up at him. “You said you didn’t come from his kingdom,” he added after a moment. “Would you tell me which you do hail from?”</p>
<p> The faint smile on Wilde’s lips faltered. “Do you ask as my king?” he said quietly.</p>
<p> Waving an impatient hand, Grizzop said, “I ask because I’m curious. Can I guess, if you don’t want to tell me?”</p>
<p> Wilde studied Grizzop’s expression, and, slowly, his expression warmed again, just slightly. “Very well.”</p>
<p> “Not Mars,” Grizzop said, turning and walking along the riverbank, counting off on his fingers as he went. Wilde followed him a few paces behind. “You don’t strike me as an Apollo type. Athena, perhaps?”</p>
<p> “How flattering.”</p>
<p> “No, then.”</p>
<p> They made their way back towards the palace, and at some point Grizzop realized the conversation had shifted away from Wilde’s past to the royal library, and wondered how that had happened.</p><hr/>
<p> The room Vesseek had selected was roomier than Wilde’s cell by far, but the goblin-sized furniture in it cast a surreal absurdity to Wilde standing in the center of it. “Bed will be ready by tonight,” Vesseek said. They were bouncing from foot to foot, grinning, apparently very pleased with themselves. “And since winter’s on the way, I asked for a wardrobe and some warmer clothes, too.”</p>
<p> “Thank you, Vesseek,” Grizzop said. “We’ll try to replace everything else sooner rather than later,” he added, watching Wilde tip back the chair in the corner.</p>
<p> “Thank you, sire,” Wilde said. His voice was tight, carefully steady, his back to Grizzop. He was lit by the sunlight streaming through the window, the soft morning sun catching the hidden reds in his hair and setting them alight.</p>
<p> “If there’s anything specific you want first,” Vesseek said, “let me know.”</p>
<p> There was a brief silence; when Wilde turned to face them again, there was something in his eyes nearly as soft as the sunlight. “A writing desk,” he said quietly. “If it isn’t too much trouble.”</p><hr/>
<p> The days passed, and slowly it became routine for Wilde and Vesseek both to greet Grizzop in the mornings, and soon enough Vesseek had integrated Wilde into the guard rotations. (They shrugged when Grizzop asked about it. “He’s your knight,” they said. “Might as well take advantage of it instead of having him follow you around like a puppy all day.”)</p>
<p> Preparations for winter and fortification against intruders meant there was little time for them to speak, but one night, while the moon was full and bright in the cool night air, Grizzop managed to catch Wilde as he was coming back from the forest. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about,” he said. “Would you walk with me?”</p>
<p> Wilde bowed. “Of course.” He hoisted himself out of his saddle and followed Grizzop on foot, half a pace behind him.</p>
<p> “When you first came here,” Grizzop said, heading in the direction of the stables, “I assumed your shackles were symbolic.” He glanced over his shoulder; Wilde’s hand had gone to his wrist, his expression cautious. “Are they?”\</p>
<p> Wilde stroked his mount’s neck. “Yes,” he said, dragging the one syllable out into a full sentence.</p>
<p> Grizzop frowned. “Are they <em>functional?”</em> he pressed.</p>
<p> Wilde licked his lips. “Yes,” he said, more quickly this time. They had reached the stables, and Wilde handed his horse off to a stable-hand, watching them get her ready for the night without turning to meet Grizzop’s gaze.</p>
<p> “What function do they serve?”</p>
<p> Finally, he turned. “Several,” he said. He looked as if there were more he was about to say, but he wavered, hesitating, until Grizzop spoke again.</p>
<p> “Let me see,” he said, holding out a hand.</p>
<p> For a moment, Grizzop thought he might refuse, which would have certainly been interesting enough on its own. But, slowly, Wilde held out his hands, letting Grizzop take them in his.</p>
<p> The shackles certainly looked ornamental more than anything. The chain was thin enough that Grizzop thought he could break it by yanking on it hard enough, but it thrummed with power, magic woven into the metal. The shackles were not iron, but silver, artfully oxidized, inlaid with mother-of-pearl and dark red gemstones. There was no keyhole, but there was something engraved in looping script along the perimeter of them in a language Grizzop couldn’t read. “What does it say?” he asked softly.</p>
<p> Wilde’s hands, cradled in Grizzop’s, curled into loose fists, and for a moment he didn’t answer. “It marks me as a traitor,” he said simply. Grizzop looked up at him, but Wilde didn’t meet his eyes, looking instead at the bands around his wrists. “And an exile. And...” He paused, took a deep breath and let it out in a quiet sigh. “They bind my magic, sire.”</p>
<p> Grizzop brought Wilde’s hands together, clasped them in his own. “I’ll see that they’re broken.”</p>
<p> Wilde looked at him with unguarded surprise. “Th-that’s not - I don’t know that you <em>could.</em> And they are meant to brand me forever - ”</p>
<p> Grizzop snorted. “Is your loyalty so divided?” he asked.</p>
<p> “No!” Wilde said, sounding so offended and stunned that Grizzop couldn’t help but laugh.</p>
<p> “Then fuck forever,” he said, grinning with relish at Wilde’s expression. “They gave you up and have no claim over you now. You are <em>my</em> knight, not their exile, and my knights do not wear chains.”</p>
<p> Wilde swallowed tightly. “Sire,” he said, strangled, then went to one knee, head bowed, hands trembling in Grizzop’s. “Thank you,” he said, full-throated with emotion, and Grizzop’s grin softened into a genuine smile. “My life and loyalty are yours, as long as you would have me.”</p>
<p> “Rise then,” Grizzop said. “A stable yard is hardly the place for proclamations of eternal loyalty.” Wilde laughed, true and bright and musical, and didn’t smother it as he stood, eyes shining. “You have a good laugh,” Grizzop said thoughtfully as he turned back towards the road. “I’d like to hear it more.”</p>
<p> “As my king commands,” Wilde said, tone very nearly teasing, and followed Grizzop back to the palace.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Breaking of Chains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Grizzop and Wilde go into the forest to seek help from friends.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've really missed writing for this fic! I want to say we're coming close to an ending, but there's still some plot left to unspool, so nothing definitive yet. Longish chapter today, everyone was very chatty and emotional. Enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> “You’re magic,” Vesseek said to Grizzop. The three of them had gathered in one of the small chambers off the throne room, and Vesseek was threading Wilde’s chain between their fingertips. They had no eye for magic, but there was no one Grizzop trusted more with delicate information, and so here they were. “Couldn’t you just shoot it?”</p>
<p> Grizzop twirled the arrow in his hands. The thought had occurred to him, of course, but - “And if it fails and blows up in his face?” he said.</p>
<p> “I trust you’d be able to reassemble me properly, sire,” Wilde said, and Grizzop opened his mouth to chastise him before catching the glimmer of amusement in his eye.</p>
<p> “We’ll keep it as a last resort,” Grizzop grumbled, slipping the arrow back into its quiver. He frowned at the chain in Vesseek’s hands. He tilted his head. “How do you get dressed in the morning?” he asked.</p>
<p> Wilde arched one eyebrow. “Is Your Majesty requesting a demonstration?” he asked.</p>
<p> Grizzop met his gaze, lips quirking, and made a small “get on with it” gesture.</p>
<p> Wilde unlaced his tunic, and Grizzop allowed himself one look at the skin this revealed before refocusing his gaze to Wilde’s wrists. The thin chain of his shackles didn’t come apart; it almost became a ghost of itself, allowing the fabric to pass through it before seamlessly reforming with a faint glimmer of magic. “I don’t see the point of the chain, then,” Grizzop said as Wilde redressed. “It’s long enough not to be a hindrance, they’ve gone out of their way to keep it from getting in the way of things - why have it at all, when the braces would be sufficient?” He frowned in Wilde’s direction, careful to keep his eyes on his face and not the glimpse of his collarbones.</p>
<p> “Sire,” Wilde said, his hands pausing on the ties to his shirt. He hesitated, eyes on the floor; his expression was carefully blank, but for the tiniest crease between his eyebrows. “It is intended to humiliate me, Your Majesty,” he said softly, and continued tugging his tunic closed.</p>
<p> Vesseek bristled, shooting Grizzop a look. Grizzop seethed. “It seems to me your former masters had a warped sense of justice,” he said.</p>
<p> “You don’t know my crime,” Wilde replied, smiling vaguely, a weak attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere.</p>
<p> “If it was so terrible they should have just shot you,” Grizzop said. “Or exiled you cleanly. Not...this.” He shifted on his feet, aware of Vesseek’s eyes on him. “We’ll have to break the shackles, then,” he said. “Meet me at dawn tomorrow and we’ll go into the forest. Vesseek, you’ll be all right on your own for a few days?”</p>
<p> “Of course,” Vesseek said, bowing their head slightly. “And you’ll be all right without me to protect you?” they added, grinning.</p>
<p> Grizzop rolled his eyes. “Lady willing.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> The morning was grey and sleeting and cold, and Grizzop felt a low spark of warmth in his chest to see Wilde wrapped in the heavy cloak Vesseek had commissioned. “Not the best time of year for a camping trip,” Vesseek said, huddled beneath an overhang, ears tucked underneath a hood to keep them from the weather. “I’ll make hot cocoa for when you get back.”</p>
<p> Grizzop snorted, clipping his own ears back. “Don’t burn the kingdom down while I’m gone,” he said. Then, more solemnly, “Be safe, Vesseek. Since the forest - ”</p>
<p> “There’s been no sign of anyone else in weeks,” Vesseek said. “But I will if you will.”</p>
<p> Grizzop smiled grimly, nodded, and coaxed his mount into the sleet. “Ready?” he asked, looking up at Wilde.</p>
<p> “At your command, sire,” Wilde said, bowing his head.</p>
<p> “Let’s not waste any time, then. The sooner we’re back, the better.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> The sleet turned to snow an hour into their travels; it was something of a relief, less damp and miserable, slowly blanketing the forest in a layer of quiet sparkling white. Wilde had thrown back his hood, and Grizzop stole glances at him from the corner of his eye, and the way the snow glittered in the dark of his hair.</p>
<p> “If I may ask, sire,” Wilde said eventually, very quietly, like he didn’t want to break the stillness of the snowy woods, “what exactly are you hoping to find to help us?”</p>
<p> “I have my allies,” Grizzop said. “You’ve met them.”</p>
<p> Wilde was silent for a moment. “You think they would help?”</p>
<p> “They would try,” Grizzop said. “And it doesn’t hurt to ask.”</p>
<p> “It seems,” Wilde began, then fell silent again. For a moment, Grizzop thought he wouldn’t continue. Then he said, “Forgive me if I sound ungrateful, sire, it just seems like a great deal of effort and time to put into helping me with something so trivial.”</p>
<p> Grizzop glanced at him, eyes narrowed. “I’d do the same for any of my knights,” he said. “If Vesseek or Tzak - ”</p>
<p> “But I am not Vesseek or Tzak,” Wilde interrupted.</p>
<p> Grizzop didn’t turn to look at the expression on Wilde’s face; he could imagine it well enough. Guarded martyrdom - a distant, solemn, unspoken grief. Grizzop bristled. “No,” he said flatly. “You are not.” And he pressed deeper into the forest.</p>
<hr/>
<p> They set up camp by the river in silence, and Grizzop left Wilde to build a fire while he hunted for dinner. The moon hung heavy in the night sky, not a little less than half full, but more than enough light to see by; darkness was starting to settle earlier and earlier, these days.</p>
<p> Grizzop brought down two pheasants and scavenged a few knobbly winter roots. Vesseek had sent him off with a block of salt and preserved fungus from the lakebed; they’d have a veritable feast back at camp. He trudged back to the river and set about cleaning his kills, his motions automatic, his mind wandering back to Wilde.</p>
<p> The strong lead; the weak were helped; threats were destroyed. It was a simple enough philosophy, Grizzop thought. The problem came in knowing which category Wilde fell into. He was strong enough to defend himself and puzzle through Grizzop’s trials, and Grizzop didn’t believe him to be a threat, at least not intentionally. But while it was undeniable that Wilde needed help, it was difficult for Grizzop to think of him as weak - and how did one help someone who denied it at every turn? It was like pulling teeth.</p>
<p> Grizzop hauled himself to his feet with a heavy sigh and made his way back towards their camp, shaking his mind free of his musings. No need to overthink it; he would help Wilde whether he wanted it or not.</p>
<p> The fire was roaring when Grizzop returned, and Grizzop fed it with the little bundles he’d made of the pheasants’ organs, a small sacrifice for his Lady’s favor, before setting his spoils to cook. Wilde, over by his mount, watched him silently. “Did you have to build many fires between your former kingdom and mine?” Grizzop asked, not looking up from the flames.</p>
<p> “A few,” Wilde said. “It was still warm when I left. It was a pleasant enough journey.” He crunched through the shallow snow to sit across from Grizzop, the fire between them. “All things considered.”</p>
<p> “Why did you chose my kingdom?” Grizzop asked, poking at the coals and settling back to finally look Wilde in the face. “There are other human kingdoms, surely one of them would have taken you in. Perhaps more easily than I did.”</p>
<p> “Perhaps,” Wilde said. He sounded tired; he stared into the fire, and Grizzop suspected he wasn’t exactly seeing it. “I told you before, sire. The human kingdoms are all much the same. And I thought...” He broke off, glancing aside, his mouth twisted in something like sheepishness.</p>
<p> “You thought...?”</p>
<p> “Forgive me,” Wilde said. “I thought the fearsome Goblin King would be a fitting executor of my fate.”</p>
<p> Grizzop blinked, realization needling him like that morning’s sleet. “You thought I’d kill you,” he said.</p>
<p> “I thought if you did,” Wilde said, slowly, carefully, “I would have deserved it.” He paused, eyes flickering up to meet Grizzop’s, his expression cautious. “And then you didn’t, and I hadn’t planned that far ahead.”</p>
<p> Grizzop exhaled hard, poked irritably at the pheasants, and pulled them and the roots from the fire, gathering up a serving and marching to Wilde’s side to shove it into his hands. “Eat,” he said, then returned to his own place by the fire and taking what was left for himself.</p>
<p> “Sire, if I’ve offended you - ”</p>
<p> “Just eat,” Grizzop said wearily. He watched Wilde flatly until he peeled free a sliver of meat and slipped it between his lips, looking almost but not quite embarrassed.</p>
<p> “Thank you,” Wilde murmured.</p>
<p> Grizzop said nothing, and they ate in silence.</p>
<p> Afterwards, as Grizzop disposed of the bones and Wilde unrolled their sleeping packs, Grizzop said, as casually as he could manage, “I treated you poorly, when you first arrived here.”</p>
<p> Wilde paused, his back to Grizzop. “If you had known the man I was before we met,” he said, “you would have treated me far worse, and been justified.”</p>
<p> “But I didn’t,” Grizzop replied. “I only know the man you are now.” He came to Wilde’s side where he knelt on the earth. When he circled so they were face to face, Wilde was staring hard at the ground; Grizzop reached out and tilted his head up. “I’m sorry to have treated that man the way I did, and I would hope he would permit me to make it up to him.”</p>
<p> Wilde opened his mouth, but no sound escaped. Instead he nodded, once, glanced aside, cleared his throat. “You are kinder than I deserve, sire, but I’ve learned to take what kindness I can,” he said.</p>
<p> “Could’ve fooled me,” Grizzop said dryly, and patted his cheek. “Sleep. I’ll take first watch.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> The lake had a thin layer of ice over it when they approached, not enough to be able to walk across it to the center, but enough to catch the light of dawn and scatter it around the clearing. The river spirit, where he was cross-legged in the middle of the water, exhaled a great cloud of steam as Wilde approached. “You again?” he called. He stood and glided across the surface of the lake with barely a ripple. “Your king send you on another mission?”</p>
<p> “I did,” Grizzop said, stepping around Wilde into the spirit’s line of sight.</p>
<p> The spirit arched a snowy eyebrow. “A real one, this time, if you’re here too,” he said. He leaned on his glaive. “What this time?” Grizzop gestured at Wilde, who hesitated a moment then held up his wrists. The spirit frowned and motioned for him to come closer. “I did wonder about these,” he said, examining the thin chain, the looping script on the shackles. “Not goblin-made.”</p>
<p> “Nor goblin-decreed,” Grizzop said. “You can see why they have to go.”</p>
<p> “I can,” the spirit agreed, but he was frowning more intently than he usually did. He slotted his glaive against the chain, murmured something under his breath, and tugged; the chain held for a moment, flickering with stoppered magic, then shattered with a sound like ice beneath a hot sun. Wilde staggered back a step, staring at his wrists with a vaguely shocked expression on his face. The spirit huffed out a breath and settled back. “S’all I can do,” he said. “Sorry, sire. Wish it were more.”</p>
<p> “It’s enough,” Grizzop said, smiling at the look on Wilde’s face. “Thank you, spirit.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> Grizzop brought back three fish as Wilde made camp, cleaned and cooked all three, and set a portion off to the side as he and Wilde ate. Wilde glanced at it once, but either he had figured out Grizzop’s intentions or he trusted his king enough not to ask questions.</p>
<p> “Did you bring any of those weird little mushrooms?” asked the shadow, as she settled by the fire, stark black against the moonlit snow. Grizzop scraped a pile from his plate onto hers. “Thanks, mate.” On the other side of the fire, Wilde was grinning into his own dinner.</p>
<p> They ate in companionable quiet, and afterwards the shadow let out a contented sigh and stretched out like a well-fed cat. “So,” she said, “how can I help you, Your Highness?”</p>
<p> “Got a lock needs picking,” Grizzop said, gesturing in Wilde’s direction. He blinked and the shadow had vanished from his side to settle next to Wilde, turning his hands over in hers.</p>
<p> “Kept him, did you?” she asked. “Still think he’s weird, but if you like him he can’t be too bad.”</p>
<p> “Flattered,” Wilde said wryly, but his smile was genuine enough.</p>
<p> The shadow prodded at the shackles. “No lock here,” she mumbled to herself. “These are fancy, Grizzop, I dunno if I can - ” The bracers fell open with a loud thump and the shadow crowed out a laugh. “Just kidding,” she said smugly. “Course I can.”</p>
<p> Grizzop scrambled up to take Wilde’s hands in his, running his thumb over the red marks the shackles had left behind. Wilde seemed to be in shock, staring openly at the skin of his wrists with his expression unguarded, disbelieving, not yet ready to commit to exhilaration. Beside them, the shadow was turning the shackles over in her hands so the gems caught the firelight. “Do you want them back?” she asked. “If you don’t, can I keep them?”</p>
<p> “Take them,” Wilde said before Grizzop could answer. His voice was high and tight with emotion, choked up with laughter or tears. “Do whatever you like with them. I never want to see them again.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> Wilde was lighter than Grizzop had ever seen him before as they got ready to leave the forest the next morning, easy to laughter, thanking Grizzop effusively at every opportunity that presented itself until Grizzop, feeling giddy himself, ordered him to stop.</p>
<p> Their high spirits lasted until early afternoon, as they crested the last hill before the bridge to the city.</p>
<p> There were tents, just on the side of the river close to the forest. Human soldiers milled around them, decked in the rust red of Mars, and for a moment Grizzop was so stunned with horror that he didn’t notice the guards posted along the bridge, two every ten feet, spears at the ready but not leveled at the humans. Not war, then. Not yet. Grizzop sagged against his mount, dizzy with relief.</p>
<p> There were others, he noticed now, fewer in number than the Mars lot, wearing all black. Only three in total. Grizzop couldn’t make out the crest on their armor. “They’ve brought allies,” he said, not taking his eyes off the tents. “The ones in black. Do you recognize them?”</p>
<p> “Gods, no,” Wilde breathed, but his tone of voice made it clear he wasn’t addressing Grizzop. Grizzop turned to look at him; he had gone white, his eyes wide and terrified, staring down at the soldiers. He was, Grizzop realized with a start, shaking, his hands gone white-knuckled on his reins.</p>
<p> “Wilde?”</p>
<p> Wilde let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes, pressing one hand to his mouth. When he looked up again, he had a degree of his composure back, but there was still fear in his voice as he lowered his hand and rasped out a single word:</p>
<p> “Hades.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Something of Loyalty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The knights of Hades have arrived at Grizzop's doorstep.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Grizzop didn’t stop to make sure Wilde was following him, wouldn’t have even if he couldn’t hear his horse thundering through the underbrush; his mind was on his kingdom, on Vesseek, on anyone who may have been hunting far enough afield not to know there was danger waiting for them back home -</p>
<p> It had been a long time since there had been any need to use the tunnel beneath the willow, not since Grizzop had just been made a royal guard himself, but he found it easily enough, pulling aside branches and roots to find the hidden away entrance. He hopped off his mount and clicked his tongue at her, and she slipped easily beneath the earth. “This will lead us to the palace,” he said quickly, swinging himself into the tangle of roots. “Vesseek will have left someone at the other end, we - ”</p>
<p> “Ah, sire,” Wilde said.</p>
<p><em> “What?”</em> Grizzop snapped, swinging his head to look, ears vibrating with agitation. He sagged slightly as he took in Wilde, standing beside his horse. He glanced at the entrance to the tunnel; it was a bit of a squeeze, even for him. “Dammit,” he hissed. “Let me think, I - ”</p>
<p> “Go,” Wilde said. He was still pale, their mad dash through the forest not enough to bring healthy color back to his face. “I’ll find another way.”</p>
<p> Grizzop frowned, then nodded. “All right. Be safe. Be swift.”</p>
<p> “Yes,” Wilde said breathlessly. He hesitated a moment and Grizzop bit back a scream of irritation, impatient worry gnawing at him like a wild thing with a trapped leg. “Sire,” Wilde said eventually, voice tight. “The people of Hades are - be <em>careful,”</em> he said, instead of whatever he had started to say, and it sounded like a plea.</p>
<p> “Always am,” Grizzop said, and let himself drop into the tunnel beneath the earth.</p>
<hr/>
<p> The tunnel was pitch dark, but Grizzop didn’t stop to light any of the torches. He could see fine enough without them, fine enough to run as fast as his legs would carry him back towards the palace. The ceilings were too low for him to ride back - he thought distantly of making the tunnel bigger, later, but the idea flitted in and out of his racing mind too quickly to take root.</p>
<p> The entrance to the palace root cellar was caked over with dust, but the moment Grizzop started to push at it, someone on the other side grabbed hold to help him. “Sire!” It wasn’t a guard who greeted him, but Kazan, one of the cooks responsible for distributing the spoils of hunts. He wrung his hands as Grizzop hauled himself up into the cellar. “I’m so glad you’re here! The - ”</p>
<p> “Where’s Tzak?” Grizzop demanded, clinging to Kazan’s wrists. “Where’s <em>Vesseek?”</em></p>
<p> “At the bridge,” Kazan said. “All the guards are, that’s why I’m here - Vesseek is pretending to be you.”</p>
<p> Grizzop swung himself back up on his mount and started for the door. “Is everyone safe?” he asked. “Did they hurt anyone else?”</p>
<p> “No,” Kazan said. He was peering into the tunnel. “Sire, where’s Sir Wilde? Is he - ”</p>
<p> “Couldn’t fit in the tunnel,” Grizzop said, and began bounding up the stairs. “Send word to keep watch for him!” he called over his shoulder, and then his mount was racing through the palace towards the river.</p>
<p> Vesseek, wearing Grizzop’s antlered helm and one of his quivers, stopped him before he could leave the throne room, bursting through the double doors on their own mount and tackling him to the floor in a tangle of wolf and cheetah and limbs. Grizzop threw his arms around them. “What’s happened?” he demanded, scrambling to his feet without relinquishing his grip on them. “Are you hurt? <em>What happened?”</em></p>
<p> “I’m fine,” Vesseek said. “I’m fine, I don’t know how you can wear this, it’s so heavy - they wouldn’t talk to anyone who wasn’t the king, so I borrowed it, I don’t think they’ll notice - where’s Wilde?”</p>
<p> “On his way - Vesseek, what do they want?”</p>
<p> Vesseek tugged the crown from their head; their eyes were dark with worry. “Retribution,” they said glumly. “For the knight in the forest.”</p>
<p> Grizzop bristled furiously. “Retribution for culling a killer from <em>our lands?”</em></p>
<p> “That’s what I said!” Vesseek said. “Or, you said, as far as they know. They said they won’t leave until we turn over the responsible party.”</p>
<p><em> “I’m</em> responsible,” Grizzop said firmly. “As king - ”</p>
<p> “That’s what I - you - told them,” Vesseek said again. “But...” They shivered slightly. “Those dark knights - I don’t recognize them. Their leader said she could see his death, and they wanted the knight who dealt the blow that killed him.”</p>
<p> Grizzop placed the helm over his face, scowling. “Well they can’t have him,” he growled. “He isn’t even here. What did you tell them?”</p>
<p> “Nothing,” Vesseek said. Their ears were drooping. “She - she did some kind of magic, I - it was - ” They shivered again, and Grizzop felt the protective anger that had seeped away swell once more, like a tide. “I felt it,” they said. “She made me feel it, when the knight died, and - they left before I could say anything. They said they’d be waiting for our reply.”</p>
<p> “You said they didn’t hurt you!” Grizzop said.</p>
<p> “I’m <em>fine,”</em> Vesseek snapped. “And anyway, they thought they were hurting you. I don’t think they want to go to war.” At that, Grizzop hesitated. Vesseek noticed and grabbed his wrist. “I <em>will,”</em> they said fiercely. “I would go if you asked me to, for him or for any of our people. He was protecting us.”</p>
<p> Grizzop swallowed thickly. “He was,” he said. “He’ll try to again,” he added.</p>
<p> “Oh, gods,” Vesseek said, as if the reality of that possibility hadn’t crossed their mind until Grizzop mentioned it. “Where is he?”</p>
<p> “On his way. He couldn’t fit in the tunnel.” Grizzop frowned. “He knew the dark knights. He said they were from Hades.”</p>
<p> “Never heard of them,” Vesseek said. “Should I try to go find him? So he doesn’t do something stupid?”</p>
<p> Grizzop, for the first time since the forest, let out a laugh, thin and feeble, but genuine enough. “Yes,” he said. He pulled Vesseek close and kissed their forehead. “Go with our Lady’s protection, and mine, and bring our foolish knight home safe.”</p>
<p> “Thank you, sire,” Vesseek said. They clicked their tongue; their wolf detangled himself from where Grizzop’s cheetah had been grooming his ears. “Be safe, Your Majesty. Don’t have too much fun without me.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>  Grizzop crossed the bridge on foot; the guards posted glanced at him as he passed, recognition and relief on their features. On the far side of the bridge, the dark knights - the knights of Hades - started towards him in tight V formation. Grizzop stopped at Tzak’s side and watched them come, his mouth twisted into a scowl beneath his helm.</p>
<p> “Sire,” Tzak breathed, not looking at him. “Our knights?”</p>
<p> “Soon,” Grizzop replied. He tilted his head up. “Be ready.”</p>
<p> The knights of Hades came to a stop, their horses pawing at the stones. “Your answer, Goblin King?” their leader called. There was no inflection in her voice; no cruelty or mockery, just a cold, flat indifference.</p>
<p> “The same as it was,” Grizzop replied. “The killing of your knight was justified; I may not have swung the blade myself, but it was by my hand he was struck down. Leave, if you intend to do so peacefully. There will be no more bargaining on the matter.”</p>
<p> “A pity,” the knight replied, her voice still flat and empty.</p>
<p> “Answer me this,” Grizzop said, tilting his head at her. “I’ve no quarrel with the people of Hades. I’d never heard of you before you arrived on my doorstep. What alliance have you with the kingdom of Mars that you would ride to war for them, all over one foolhardy knight trespassing where he wasn’t wanted?”</p>
<p> The knight’s face was hidden behind her own helm of featureless black iron, but Grizzop could have sworn he heard her let out a breath of a laugh. “The man you are protecting, Goblin King,” she said. “Do you know who he is?”</p>
<p> Grizzop’s eyes narrowed. “Do you intend to answer my question?”</p>
<p> “No, then,” the knight said softly. “No matter. Ease your worries, Goblin King; we have no allegiances that would lead us into pointless war. The good people of Mars know you are within your rights to slay intruders to your realm; they are here because of us, not the other way around. And we are here for the man who killed the knight in the forest.”</p>
<p> “If I was within my rights, then what claim do you possibly have?” Grizzop snapped. “Enough speaking in circles. The man you seek is my knight, and he carried out my will. You have no claim over - ” He stopped suddenly, his own words echoing back to him; he was grateful once more for his helm, hiding the shocked realization he was sure was on his face. <em>“You,”</em> he said.</p>
<p> The woman from Hades inclined her head. “Indeed,” she said. “Surely you can understand now, the position I am in. An exile has no authority to pledge himself in knighthood. Especially not to the king of goblins.”</p>
<p> Grizzop snarled, swung his bow up, and fired an arrow; it buried itself in the cobblestones and burned with silver fire. The knights’ horses reared up, whinnying, backing away. “No,” he said, voice clear and carrying and furious. “You have cast him out and your claim on him is broken. If you want him back then you will come and take him, or you will go back to your kingdom a pincushion!”</p>
<p> The knight drew her sword; Grizzop nocked another arrow; from the sky, there was an earth-shattering roar. Grizzop looked up, startled; overhead, wings catching the sun, was a dragon. It was fully grown, not the little dragonling they had met in the forest, and its scales were the color of Grizzop’s own magic, silver like the moonlight. Behind him, he heard Vesseek cry out, <em>“To arms! To the forest! For our king and our Lady of the Hunt!”</em></p>
<p> On the far side of the bridge, the knights of Mars were scrambling away, grabbing blindly for their weapons, retreating towards the treeline as the dragon roared and swooped low. The knights of Hades were backing away, hesitant; their leader stood firm, spine straight, blade extended. Then the arrow at her horse’s feet burst into a gout of silver fire, and it reared back and bolted for the trees. Grizzop lowered his bow, distantly baffled, and his guards swarmed past him, crying out with one voice. Vesseek and Wilde rode to a stop next to him.</p>
<p> “Sire,” Wilde said tightly. “I’m sorry. I - ”</p>
<p> “We’ll talk later,” Grizzop said. He nodded towards the dragon, skimming over the treetops and bellowing a roar. “That yours?”</p>
<p> Wilde laughed weakly. “Yes,” he said.</p>
<p> Grizzop swung up onto Vesseek’s wolf, one arm around their waist. “Let’s go,” he said. The sounds of clashing weapons rose from the forest, beneath the sounds of the dragon. “To battle.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> They had the advantage, in the dark of the forest, with a dragon the color of the moon overhead, and the knights of Mars, for the most part, seemed disinclined to die to retrieve one wayward exile of Hades.</p>
<p> It was the dark knights Grizzop worried about. The ones who had come for Wilde. The ones he believed would come back.</p>
<p> They had split off from Wilde, at some point, slipping off the beaten path. Grizzop fired from the back of Vesseek’s mount; not at anyone retreating, but any who dared stand against his own knights fell to his arrows.</p>
<p> The woods around them were dark and silent, now, the sounds of battle distant; Grizzop’s eyes scanned the trees, his ears upright and quivering. Vesseek’s wolf stopped to scent the air, and there was a faint sound off to the right. Grizzop moved before he thought, swinging his bow up and firing into the trees; there was the shriek of an injured horse and a cry of anger from its rider, and then one of the dark knights was bursting into the clearing, sword raised above his head.</p>
<p> Grizzop leapt from Vesseek’s mount; Vesseek’s wolf leapt in the opposite direction; the knight swung wildly, overbalanced, and went to one knee. Vesseek’s wolf was on him before he could rise again. “One down,” Vesseek said darkly. They clicked their tongue, and drove their spear through the unmoving body - just in case, Grizzop supposed - before returning to Grizzop’s side.</p>
<p> “We should find Wilde,” Grizzop said, accepting Vesseek’s hand up. “Probably find the other two with him.”</p>
<p> “What a heap of trouble our knight is always in,” Vesseek said, grinning faintly. “Good thing he’s got us.”</p>
<p> It wasn’t surprising when they arrived back at the clearing where the Mars knight had died. One body was stretched out already, blood pooling in the snow beneath their black armor. Grizzop hopped off Vesseek’s mount and motioned for them to fan out, to cover more ground; they nodded, expression grim, and slipped into the trees.</p>
<p> The dragon overhead had stopped its roaring, and the world was silent as Grizzop moved through the forest, bow in hand. Even the sounds of fighting had faded away. The snow had been disturbed, the lower branches of the trees snapped off in places, splashes of red blood against the ground, but it was difficult to pinpoint which direction the fighters had gone; Grizzop moved slowly, hardly daring to breathe, his blood high and singing with adrenaline.</p>
<p> He found one sword - then the shattered tip of another - then a featureless black iron helm - and then his earring, marred by one bright drop of blood, still clinging to a bit of green fabric where it had been ripped free from Wilde’s collar. Grizzop exhaled shakily as he picked this last one up, his breath misting in front of him in the cold. “Lady,” he breathed, and when he looked up, the path was clear to him, picked out in silver. He followed it quickly, legs and heart pumping.</p>
<p> He heard Wilde before he found him, a desperate, wavering cry, and when Grizzop burst free of the trees, the Hades knight didn’t look up from where she was bent over him.</p>
<p> She was fairer than Grizzop might have expected, her face pretty enough, her hair long and golden. Her red lips were twisted into a snarl as she dug the broken blade of her sword into Wilde’s face, her knees pinning his shoulders. Grizzop fired a burning arrow; it fizzled and went out before it reached her, the wood of it rotting and falling to harmless pieces in the snow. She glared at him out of the corner of her eye, and when she stood, Wilde remained where she had left him, sprawled limply in the snow, chest heaving with uneven gasps.</p>
<p> “Goblin King,” she said. The lack of inflection in her voice remained, though her shoulders were heaving, and Grizzop could see blood seeping from the joints of her armor. “I have been tasked with bringing our wayward servant home, to prevent us any further embarrassment. If I must bring your head as well, I will not complain.”</p>
<p> Grizzop fired again, wordlessly, vibrating with fury; again, his arrow decayed before it reached her. She lunged forwards; Grizzop slid beneath her legs to plant himself between her and Wilde, nocking another arrow and firing for the tree branches above her this time.</p>
<p> The cascade of snow and splintered wood caught her off guard; she stumbled back, and this time Grizzop’s arrow flew true, striking hard and shattering against her armor, wayward shrapnel slicing open her cheek. She snarled and darted forward, and from the trees there was a howl.</p>
<p><em> “Grizzop!”</em> Vesseek yelled, and their mount barreled out of the woods, colliding with the knight, teeth snapping at her throat.</p>
<p> There was a burst of magic, the blue of a moonless night, and a yelp; Vesseek and their mount both were thrown backwards, smashing into a tree.</p>
<p> For a moment Vesseek gasped for breath, stunned; when they detangled themselves from their wolf, they saw Grizzop swaying on his feet, one hand extended towards them, blood dripping from beneath his helm. “No,” they said weakly. “Sire, no!”</p>
<p> “Got you,” Grizzop said, grinning. He could taste the green stain on his teeth. He staggered to one knee, hand dropping limply. Around him, the air had grown midnight-black; he saw Vesseek darting towards him only to be forced back by some impenetrable layer of magic. He tilted his head up to the knight of Hades, aching with injuries not his own, breathing hard through his nose. He thought it felt broken. He wasn’t sure it would matter, in a moment.</p>
<p> “You have been quite the thorn in my side,” the knight said. She extended a hand. “Sleep now, Goblin King,” she said. “Die, and let the worms forsake you, and let death haunt you, and may you never again know a moment of peace.”</p>
<p> Grizzop closed his eyes and waited for the curse to take him. Instead, he felt arms close around him, and he was spun dizzyingly backwards, landing hard in the snow.</p>
<p> For one eternal instant, he stared in horror up into Wilde’s eyes, and watched the life drain from them, watched the determination and desperation and foolish loyalty flicker out like a candleflame. And then Wilde slumped forwards, a dead weight, motionless, not even breathing. Even his wounds had stopped bleeding. Shaking, wide-eyed, Grizzop reached up to splay one hand over his cheek, and found him cold.</p>
<p> Grief held him still, pinned him more surely than Wilde’s body on top of his.</p>
<p> The knight of Hades crunched through the snow, her magic dissipating to reveal the calm skies above, bright and blue and incongruous with the weight crushing Grizzop into the ground. “Hm,” she said. “Perhaps he did know something of loyalty, in the end.” She hefted her broken blade. “Not that it will save you.”</p>
<p> “Knight of Hades!” cried a new voice. Grizzop looked numbly towards it.</p>
<p> It was the dragonling, small and brassy, the snow melting off the branch he had settled on. “Leave now if you have any sense. You have done enough harm here today, and I owe this man my life. I would be pleased enough to pay that debt with yours, so go if you value it.”</p>
<p> The knight turned to face the dragonling, lip curling in a snarl, and swung her blade at the branch he was sitting on. “No more tricks,” she said. “I will not be swayed from my path by illusions and lies.”</p>
<p> “I worried you’d say that,” sighed the dragonling. “But I assure you, I am very much the real thing.”</p>
<p> The knight raised her sword once more, but the dragonling opened his jaw, and there was a gout of flame, and then, at last, the last knight of Hades was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Curses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Winter passes, slow and grey.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Winter passed slowly, a haze of grey and snow and ice. The woods were silent; neither Mars nor Hades sent more soldiers to Grizzop’s doorstep, and slowly life settled back into its routines, as if none of the past months had ever happened. The only reminder was the room tucked away in the depths of the palace, kept locked and under constant guard.</p>
<p> Grizzop tried not to languish there. He had his duties to attend to, and seeing Wilde, pale and still, made some deep and buried part of himself claw for the surface in anguish. He could not afford to spend is days in dull and unproductive mourning. He went into the woods to repair the damage done in the skirmish; he saw to it his people were kept fed and warm; he settled disputes, attended celebrations, saw his obligations out to their ends.</p>
<p> It was still dark when Grizzop dismissed the guard outside Wilde’s door, the winter sunrise still some hours off. The room was silent, as it always was, unbroken by any other living thing; Grizzop approached Wilde’s bedside with no expectations.</p>
<p> Nothing had changed. Nothing ever did.</p>
<p> Grizzop settled himself in the chair by the writing desk Wilde had requested, lit a lamp, and began poring over the tomes of history and magic that had taken up residence there.</p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m so sorry,” the dragonling had said, and even in Grizzop’s stunned haze, he could hear the genuine remorse in his voice. “I came as soon as I could, I - I’m sorry.” And then he had reached up with a claw and pulled free a scale from his chest, folding it into Wilde’s unresisting palm. “It will keep away the chill,” he explained. “Keep him warm. There isn’t any more I can do, but I hope this will help.”</em>
</p>
<p> Vesseek had made sure not to fold Wilde’s hands over his chest - it made him look too much the part - but the dragon scale still rested in his hand where it was curled at his side. The one time Grizzop had brought himself to touch Wilde’s hand, it had felt warm and alive, like he could have been sleeping, if Grizzop could allow himself the fantasy. If he didn’t know beyond a doubt that Wilde’s heart had stopped, his lungs stilled. He didn’t touch Wilde, after that.</p>
<p> Grizzop flipped irritably through the spellbook in front of him, eyes scanning the pages for anything relevant. The magic gifted to him by his Lady did not include...this. Whatever this was. The deaths he dealt in her name were clean and quick, not this lingering curse, this unending in-between. Curses could be lifted, Grizzop knew that much, and he allowed himself that seedling of hope, that he would find some secret spell to undo what the Hades knight had done.</p>
<p>
  <em> The river spirit had brushed Wilde’s hair from his eyes, more gently than Grizzop had ever seen him before. “Can you save him?” Grizzop had begged, still drenched in blood, still swaying on his feet. He had stolen a horse from one of the Hades knights to bring Wilde here; Vesseek was following after them, Grizzop was sure, but he hadn’t stopped, hadn’t slowed, and their wolf had fallen behind. “Please. Any favor, anything you ask - ”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Sire,” the spirit said, not unkindly. “I would do it for nothing, if I could.” Grizzop felt the air go out of him. “This is all I can do,” the spirit said, and Grizzop stared blankly at the shimmer of magic that settled over Wilde like a shroud, white and glimmering. “It’ll...preserve him. Like he’s sleeping. For however long you need it.”</em>
</p>
<p> Grizzop had imposed a deadline. Spring’s thaw. Seedling of hope or no, if he had no leads before then, he would not allow this to continue, one way or the other.</p>
<p> He shoved the book he’d been reading aside and buried his face in his hands, rubbing hard at his eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em> The shadows had given him a dagger, slim and elegant. Grizzop had stared at it for long seconds, uncomprehending. Vesseek was halfway across the bridge already, guiding the horse bearing Wilde’s - bearing Wilde. Grizzop stood at the edge of the forest with the shadows hovering just beyond the treeline. “What,” he whispered, “is this for?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The shadows seemed to shift, slightly, as if she were uncomfortable. “For keeping away his nightmares,” she said eventually, then paused. “And...for breaking the curse.”</em>
</p>
<p> The dagger was resting on Wilde’s chest, a slice of midnight across the shimmering white shroud the river spirit had laid over him. Grizzop looked at it blearily.</p>
<p> Spring’s thaw, and this would end, one way or the other. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Short chapter before we get to the end stretch. Hope everyone's Candlenights has been lovely. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There is a visitor to the court, and a decision is made.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Grizzop was standing on the shore of the river, watching great slabs of ice crack apart and float lazily free, when Vesseek came to his side. They hovered a moment. “There’s still snow on the forest floor,” they said, quietly, and Grizzop nodded vaguely, forcing himself to turn away from the thawing river to face them fully. “You’ve a visitor,” Vesseek said. There were dark smudges beneath their eyes, but they managed a weak smile. “A friendly one,” they said, though the humor in it was thin. “One of Aphrodite’s, by the look of her.”</p><p> Grizzop nodded, cast one glance back at the river, and laced his fingers with Vesseek’s. “Did she say what she wanted?” he asked as they headed towards the palace.</p><p> Vesseek shrugged one shoulder. “Only that she needed urgently to speak with you,” they said. There was a lull; around them, the kingdom was still in its slow winter fashion, quieter than it would be in the coming weeks. The sunset was still early, but slowly, slowly, spring was stretching northwards. It would be here soon. “Sire,” Vesseek said, trying their best to sound optimistic, “I was going to go back to the library tonight, if there’s anything you’d like me to - ”</p><p> “Vesseek,” Grizzop said, quiet and firm and colder than he meant to be. Vesseek’s hand in his spasmed, clenched tight for a moment before relaxing; Vesseek refused to look him in the eye. “I don’t think the library has anything more of interest,” Grizzop said. “But thank you.”</p><p> He let go of their hand as they entered the palace; he heard them let out a shuddering sigh, but when they took their place at the door, they stood firm and straight-spined and blank-faced.</p><p> The visitor, when she saw Grizzop, curtsied low and graceful, her robes floating around her in a soft pink cloud; when Grizzop gestured for her to stand, he saw they belied a fighter’s frame, tall and broad and well-muscled. “Your Highness,” she said, as Grizzop settled on his throne, “I’ve traveled far to speak with you. I was sent a vision.”</p><p> Grizzop tilted his head at her. “A vision,” he repeated. “You’re one of Aphrodite’s, aren’t you? What vision of yours would concern me?”</p><p> “A strange one, I will admit,” said the visitor. “I don’t quite think I understood it. I was hoping you could help to enlighten me.”</p><p> Grizzop shrugged. “I’m a poor scholar,” he said softly. “But I’ll do what I can.”</p><p> The visitor nodded once, then went to her knees, pulling a pendant from beneath her robes - a clam shell, glowing gently, and when she opened it, the glow intensified, casting warm shadows on the walls. Grizzop leaned forward, elbows on his knees, frowning behind his mask. As the visitor spoke, the dancing lights of the seashell wove themselves into shapes to match her tale.</p><p> “I dreamt,” said the visitor, “of a bird with broken wings.” (Grizzop felt, more than he saw, Vesseek’s eyes lock onto him. A little bird, spun from light and no bigger than a bumblebee, fluttered weakly above the clam shell.) “It tried to flee from a dark storm, but could never escape it, for it carried the storm in its own heart; it called to it, wherever it fled.” (The shadows in the room grew darker, the light deepened from soft pink to ominous red; Grizzop’s claws dug into his palms.) “Until it came to land here, in the moonlight.” (The little bird collapsed above the throne, and Grizzop, wrapped in the tale, held out his hands to catch it, to cradle it gently away from the shadows.) “It healed, here. Its broken wings could repair themselves. But though the storm in its heart diminished, it never vanished entirely, and soon the darkness arrived here, as well. It threatened to drown out even the moonlight, but instead...”</p><p> The bird in Grizzop’s palms flickered and faded, and Grizzop’s fingers curled slowly around where it had been. The visitor lowered her hands, cradling the pendant in her lap, where it glowed faintly. The light in the room returned to normal, the shadows fading away. “A simple enough vision,” said the visitor. “But for how it ended.”</p><p> Grizzop swallowed. “How did it end?” he asked roughly.</p><p> “I saw a forest,” replied the visitor. “And a grave, waiting to be filled. A resting place fit for a warrior. And in the vision, it was mine - waiting for me, when the ground grew soft enough. But I felt no peace, knowing this. And I don’t understand why.”</p><p> Behind the visitor, Vesseek had bowed their head and pressed both hands over their mouth, their shoulders tensed up around their ears. Grizzop exhaled slowly. “Spring is soon,” he said. “In a week, perhaps, we could dig a grave.” The visitor looked up at him with sadness in her eyes. “You serve Aphrodite? So you’re a healer.”</p><p> “I am.”</p><p> Grizzop hopped off his throne and nodded. “Come, then,” he said. “Come and see my little broken songbird.”</p><hr/><p> Grizzop squeezed Vesseek’s hand as they took up their station by the door. “Take heart,” he murmured. They bowed their head, the rawness around their eyes the only sign of weakness left in their features, schooled back into neutrality after their brief break in the throne room.</p><p> “If you need me,” Vesseek began.</p><p> “I know,” Grizzop said. He glanced over his shoulder, gestured for the visitor to follow him, and entered Wilde’s room.</p><p> The visitor approached the bed with a quiet reverence as Grizzop closed the door behind them. “He doesn’t look dead,” she said.</p><p> Grizzop flinched. “He isn’t,” he replied shortly. “And...he is. I can’t...I don’t know how to fix it.” Saying it out loud, admitting it to someone other than himself, brought acid to his throat. “Healing doesn’t take.” He looked away. “Or at least, mine doesn’t.”</p><p> The visitor glanced up at him, then looked back down at Wilde, her expression soft and thoughtful. “If your magic cannot break this spell,” she said, “then mine would fare no better.” Grief and anger knifed through Grizzop’s chest, and he turned away, stalking towards the window to stare out at the sky. “Sire,” the visitor said. “I believe Aphrodite sent me here for a reason.” Grizzop glanced over at her, watched her touch the dagger on Wilde’s chest and bit back the impulse to snarl at her to get away from it. “You intended to bury him.”</p><p> “It would be a mercy,” Grizzop said. “It would be selfish, to keep him from a clean death. To let him suffer a fate meant for me.”</p><p> “You must love him,” the visitor said.</p><p> Grizzop looked down at Wilde. “Of course,” he said. “He...he is my knight, and I am his king. Of course I love him.” It ached, to admit it. A nettle against his heart, stinging and raw.</p><p> “Sometimes you have to let your loves go. I will not stop you,” the visitor said, “if you truly believe the best course of action is...mercy.” She stood, holding the dagger in her palm, offering it to Grizzop, handle first. “But tell him,” she whispered, as Grizzop eased it from her hand. “Love, after all, is stronger than death is. Let him carry that with him to the next world.”</p><p> As she left, Grizzop was grateful for this mask for hiding his tears, even as he cursed himself for succumbing to them. He approached Wilde’s bedside, gripping the dagger tight; he swore he could feel the darkness dripping from it, flowing over his fist like cold water. He sat by Wilde’s head, laid the dagger across his lap, and pulled the crown from his head.</p><p> He would speak as Grizzop, for this. Not as King.</p><p> “I’m sorry,” he said, voice low and rough. “I failed you, in the end, and I’m sorry. This...this should not have been yours to bear.” He hesitated, then brushed Wilde’s hair aside, bending to rest their foreheads together. “My knight,” he murmured. “Forgive your foolish king.”</p><p> He gripped the dagger tight in one hand and pressed his lips to Wilde’s brow, eyes squeezed shut as he hefted his blade, decision made.</p><p> It was a good thing he was pressed so close, or he may have missed the soft, shuddering intake of breath from the body beneath him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Tales To Be Told</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Once upon a time...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Grizzop heard the door burst open behind him and realized he must have cried out, but he couldn’t move from where he was clinging to Wilde’s shirt, heedless of his claws catching in the fabric. (He had thrown the dagger aside when Wilde had taken a breath; it would never be seen in the kingdom again.) “Sire?” Vesseek said, and it pulled Grizzop out of his shock. The wound on Wilde’s face had opened again, blood dripping onto the pillows, and Wilde’s face had gone from the serene stillness of death to a grimace of pain. Grizzop cradled his skull in both hands and poured every scrap of healing magic he possessed into him.</p><p> “Come back,” he growled. “Come back. <em>Live.</em> I command you, as your king!”</p><p> Behind him, Vesseek laughed, wild and euphoric and truer than they had in far too long. Grizzop stared madly at Wilde’s eyes, moving now behind closed lids; at his lips, parting around a shaking gasp; at the injury across his cheek, knitted together now, the only trace left a faint, silver-tinged scar.</p><p> Wilde’s hand, when it came up to touch Grizzop’s cheek, was hesitant, as if he weren’t sure the contact would be welcome. Grizzop seized it and pulled it to his face, pressing a desperate kiss to his palm, squeezing his eyes shut as a sound lodged in his throat, something feral, something like a sob and something like laughter. When he opened his eyes again, Wilde was watching him with exhaustion on his face, sadness in his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. “Forgive me,” he said in a low rasp, “for being away so long.”</p><p> “You stupid fool of a human,” Grizzop said tightly.</p><p> “I am,” Wilde agreed, closing his eyes briefly before struggling to sit up. Vesseek had darted to the other side of the bed, and between them and Grizzop, Wilde was eased back against the headboard, taking long, careful breaths, as if he had forgotten how. “But not for this,” he said, more quietly. His hand came up to touch his chest, over his heart, rubbing as if it ached. “I...I’m sorry to have worried you, sire. If I may ask...the others, the knights of Hades - ”</p><p> “Dead,” Grizzop said tightly.</p><p> “I see.” Wilde stared down at his lap, a frown between his brows. “Sire, I...I don’t believe they will send anyone else, but if you believe me to be a - a danger. A liability. I would not be offended.” Grizzop blinked at him, Wilde’s meaning refusing to stick in his brain. Wilde spoke again, softer, continuing to address his lap. “I would leave, if you willed it.”</p><p> A beat of silence, then - “How <em>dare</em> you?”</p><p> Wilde looked up in shock. Grizzop lifted a hand towards Vesseek, whose ears had gone flat against their skull. “Vesseek,” Grizzop began.</p><p> “No!” Vesseek snapped. “After everything we have done for you - that the King has done for you? Does our affection mean so <em>little</em> to you? How could you accuse us of such cowardice? We’ve <em>bled</em> together!” Vesseek had stepped back from the bed, shaking, eyes wide and bright with angry tears.</p><p> “Sai Vesseek, I - ”</p><p> “Don’t call me that!” Vesseek hissed. “Not unless you mean it! My King did not break your bonds and accept your loyalty and - and <em>bring you back to life</em> so that you could flee alone into the night. We’re meant to be pack.”</p><p> “Enough, Vesseek,” Grizzop said gently. Vesseek wiped roughly at their eyes, glaring at the sheets on Wilde’s bed, mouth twisted into a scowl. Wilde had gone nearly as grey as he had been when he had been cursed. His shoulders had slumped. “I have no intention of sending you anywhere,” Grizzop said, perhaps redundantly. “Your place is in my court, for as long as that remains your will.” Wilde nodded slowly.</p><p> “I’m...I’m sorry,” he said. “I meant no insult, I - it is difficult for me to conceive of myself as...something wanted.”</p><p> Vesseek and Grizzop exchanged a glance. “You are not a thing,” Grizzop said. “Wilde - how did you come to be here? Why did you leave the court of Hades?”</p><p> Wilde sighed, and for a moment, Grizzop saw him cold and closed off, shrouded in politeness, the way he had been when he had first arrived. Then he smiled ruefully. “It is not a pleasant tale, sire,” he said. “I fear you’ll think less of me.”</p><p> “I would hear it if you would tell it,” Grizzop said.</p><p> “You are my brother in arms,” Vesseek said quietly. “An unpleasant past can’t change that.”</p><p> Wilde pressed a hand to his mouth, his eyes closing briefly as if he were overwhelmed. Then he nodded.</p><hr/><p> Once upon a time <em>(said Wilde, and Grizzop couldn’t help rolling his eyes),</em> in a far off kingdom, there lived a knight. He hadn’t always been a knight, but he had clawed his way into his position through vicious charm and ruthless cleverness, and his king favored him above all the others in his court for his sharp tongue and wit. It was both an enviable position to be in, and a dangerous one - the court of this king was not a pack so much as it was a pit of vipers, each one vying for attention and favor. Anyone who held the king’s eye for too long became a target. But the knight in question had worked too hard to give up his place as the king’s most beloved pet - anyone who tried to knock him from his pedestal was met with mockery and underhanded tricks, and the king indulged it. No - encouraged it. These power struggles, all for scraps of his affection - they flattered him. Cruelty and duplicity were law, not just among the court but towards any in the kingdom, and the knight took pride in being the most cruel and duplicitous of all.</p><p> Soon enough, the knight grew vain and spoiled, complacent in his position. He turned the cleverness which had won him so much of the king’s regard towards amassing his own power. Simply being the king’s favorite was no longer enough - so he turned to the kingdom’s thriving underbelly and began forging connections.</p><p> He wasn’t the first knight to do so, of course. Everyone in the court had their own unsavory counterparts to feed them information. But our knight was a fool, and he fell in love.</p><p> He thought his position would grant him clemency, or privilege, or freedom - perhaps if he had been at all subtle about it, it would have. But he was far too blind to even consider subtlety, and the king would never stand for one of his knights to be cavorting with some common thief. So the knight’s lover was arrested on charges of treason and set to be executed.</p><p> The knight pleaded with the king for mercy, and when that wasn’t granted, he broke into the dungeon, intent on setting his love free. Perhaps he had some half-baked dream of running away with him. Perhaps he thought this, too, would be indulged, as long as his love was never heard from again. Instead, the king had set a trap, and when our knight arrived, he was captured, and his love murdered before his eyes.</p><p>
  <em> (Wilde faltered for a moment. Grizzop laid a hand across the back of his, smoothed a thumb across his knuckles until his fingers unclenched from the sheets, one by one.)</em>
</p><p> The punishment for treason was death, but the king was still fond of his knight, in spite of everything. So he kept him in the dungeons, in the very same cell where his love had died, and every day, the king would offer him his freedom and his title and all his former power, if he would only repent, and swear his loyalty once more. And every day for a year, the knight refused. After a year had passed, the king’s patience had worn thin, and he gave the knight a new offer - die a noble death at the hands of his king, or wander forever in exile, unwanted, branded as a coward and a traitor.</p><hr/><p> “And so he lived,” Wilde whispered. “And so here he is.” He sighed, pressing a hand to his eyes again. “All your kindness has always felt so strange to me, both of you,” he admitted. “I dealt in cruelty for so long. In lies and false smiles. I was not a good person, sire, and it was only selfish grief that made me realize that.”</p><p> Grizzop took Wilde’s hand in both of his and snarled, “But you realized it.”</p><p> Wilde stared at their interlocked hands. “Too late, but, eventually, yes. For whatever that’s worth.”</p><p> “It’s worth everything,” Grizzop said firmly. Then, more gently, “Get some rest. I’ll have the kitchens prepare you something to eat.”</p><p> Wilde nodded, and when Grizzop glanced over at Vesseek, they had gone to drag a chair to Wilde’s bedside. “I’ll stay here,” they said. Their voice was tight with emotion, and Wilde, when he opened his mouth to protest, was met with such a fierce glare that he shrank back into his pillows, a vaguely sheepish expression on his face. Grizzop slipped into the hallway, unable to keep from grinning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Loose Ends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One thing remains.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> The river had thawed, and it was the first warm spring day of the year. The first splashes of color had started to dot the trees - tender greens and yellows, delicate pinks and blues, warm brushstrokes of white, so different from the icy snow that had been there only weeks before. The forest shook itself awake, and Grizzop walked along the riverbank and tried to appreciate the peace of it.</p>
<p> Something still nettled at him. An anxious energy, pacing in him like a caged beast, waiting for the bars to lift, for the tension to snap. He tried to tell himself it was nothing, nerves, adrenaline that needed to work itself out of his system.</p>
<p> The man arrived just after sundown.</p>
<p> “I could just kill him,” Vesseek snarled, ears straight up and quivering, watching Tzak lead him across the bridge.</p>
<p> “Vesseek,” Grizzop said mildly.</p>
<p> “I know,” Vesseek grumbled. “But it would save time.”</p>
<p> Wilde stood silently at Grizzop’s other side. He hadn’t quite recovered completely from what Vesseek was calling his “nap” - he was still training to work up his strength and endurance - but his hand had come to rest at the pommel of his sword nonetheless. Grizzop glanced at him. “Do you recognize this one?” he asked quietly.</p>
<p> Wilde shook his head, but he looked unsure himself, perturbed, and he didn’t lift his hand from his sword as Tzak grew closer.</p>
<p> “Sire,” said the cloaked figure, and at Grizzop’s side, Wilde gasped. “I’ve come to speak with your knight.” The face he revealed when he pulled back his hood was handsome, Grizzop supposed, though perhaps his view of humans was biased. He looked over at Wilde and saw him white-faced, staring at the newcomer as if he had seen a ghost, and realization came to him like the brush of spider’s legs along his neck. The newcomer smiled thinly. “Hello, Oscar.”</p>
<p> Wilde didn’t reply, and Grizzop exhaled quietly, then turned back to the newcomer. “You are welcome, of course,” he said. He could feel Vesseek vibrating beside him. “If you wish to speak with my knight, go with my blessing.”</p>
<p> “Oscar,” the newcomer said, taking half a step forward. “Come, please, there’s so much I’ve - ”</p>
<p> “Anything you want to say to me, you can say before my king,” Wilde said, and the tone of his voice made Grizzop shoot him a look. He was - terse was not quite the word. Every line of him had gone stiff, his jaw clenched, his eyes bright. His voice had wavered with some dark emotion, though Grizzop couldn’t tell if it were grief or fury or something else.</p>
<p> The newcomer had stopped in his tracks, one hand half extended towards Wilde. “I understand you must be upset,” he began, and Wilde barked a laugh that swayed towards hysterical.</p>
<p><em> “Upset?”</em> he demanded. “No, no,<em> upset - ”</em></p>
<p> “Oscar - ”</p>
<p><em> “Don’t,”</em> Wilde hissed. “When I watched you die, was that <em>your</em> idea, or did you only agree to go through with someone else’s?” Wilde’s hand tightened on his sword, and Grizzop touched his wrist, just barely. Wilde looked down at him, eyes shining with some desperate emotion, breath rapid and tightly controlled.</p>
<p> “Wilde,” Grizzop said, like he were soothing a spooked mount. “What would you have me do?” Wilde looked at him, then at the newcomer, watching their interaction with a carefully blank expression on his face. It reminded Grizzop uncomfortably of Wilde. Wilde’s shoulders sagged and he shook his head. Grizzop nodded decisively and made a brisk gesture at Tzak and Vesseek. “Make sure our guest is given a comfortable cell for the night,” he said. “Perhaps Sir Wilde will be more willing to speak with you in the morning.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> The throne room was dark and quiet when Vesseek returned, and Grizzop paused in his pacing to look up at them. “Where’s - ”</p>
<p> “I sent him to bed,” Grizzop muttered.</p>
<p> “King Mother Hen,” Vesseek said flatly, then sighed. “Our guest is less than pleased by his reception,” they said, hoisting themselves up to sit on the throne and watching Grizzop resume his pacing. “Is Wilde...?”</p>
<p> “Fine,” Grizzop said, then, “Well, no, not fine.”</p>
<p> “He get all...?” Vesseek trailed off, passing a hand in front of their face and straightening their spine, making their expression comically solemn.</p>
<p> “No,” Grizzop said, attempting a smile; it felt tepid on his lips. “I think he wanted to, but he just thanked me and...” He sighed.</p>
<p> “What are you going to do?” Vesseek asked, after a few moments more of Grizzop pacing silently in the dark.</p>
<p> “What is there to be done?” Grizzop replied. “If Wilde wishes to speak with him, then I can’t stop him. If he wants to go with him - ”</p>
<p><em> “Go</em> with him?” Vesseek said incredulously. “After that welcome, do you really think he would?” Grizzop shrugged miserably. “Perhaps <em>you</em> should get to bed, sire,” Vesseek said, not ungently. “I’m sure everything will seem better in the morning.” They hopped off the throne and slung an arm over Grizzop’s shoulders, leading him towards his rooms. “Wilde will probably ask you to send him away,” they said, gesturing dismissively. “Then this whole mess will finally be over.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> “I would like to speak with him, sire,” Wilde said from where he knelt before Grizzop’s throne. Over his shoulder, Grizzop could see Vesseek’s fingers tapping against their spear, their mouth drawn in a grimace. “I understand, if you would rather send him away, but I...”</p>
<p> Grizzop stood, descending from his throne to come face to face with Wilde, tilting his head up with a claw against his jaw. “Go,” Grizzop said, and forced himself to smile, even if he could feel how it didn’t reach his eyes. “If you’d like a guard...” he couldn’t help but add.</p>
<p> Wilde’s mouth twitched in a shadow of a smile. “No, thank you, sire. I don’t believe he would...” He trailed off, glancing aside, smile flickering and fading. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said quietly. “Thank you, again.”</p>
<p> “Of course,” Grizzop said.</p>
<p> The door closed behind Wilde, and Vesseek crossed the throne room to Grizzop’s side, touching his shoulder tentatively. “‘This whole mess will be over,’ hm?” Grizzop said, but there was no heat behind it.</p>
<p> “Sire - ”</p>
<p> “It’s all right,” Grizzop said. “What would you do, with a chance like that? It’s all right.”</p>
<p> “Of course, sire,” Vesseek said. “Come with me, for my morning rounds? The sun will do you good.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> Grizzop threw himself into his duties, and with every hour that passed that Wilde didn’t return from the prison, he pushed himself further. It was perhaps the most productive day he’d had in months. Vesseek trailed him as he worked, his bodyguard for the day. It was an arrangement they had fallen into often, when Grizzop was newly crowned, but it had been some time since then - some time since Grizzop had needed their constant comfort at his side.</p>
<p> The air grew cold early, as it tended to in the spring; the sun was pale in the greying sky, and Grizzop stood at the riverbank, staring out at the forest’s spray of color. It would be time for proper hunts to begin again, soon. His hand strayed absently to his bow, tracing over the silver inlay, his muscles aching, suddenly, with the want of loosing an arrow into his mark. Vesseek glanced down at his hand then up to his face, but whatever they started to say was cut off by a cry from behind them.</p>
<p> “Sire!” Grizzop whirled, fist closing around his weapon; Tzak ran to his side, breathless, and bent double to catch her breath, hands on her knees. “I’m sorry,” she said, and a stab of terror went through Grizzop. “I didn’t think - he told me you had given him permission so I wasn’t watching as closely as I should have, I - ”</p>
<p> “Tzak,” Vesseek said sharply. “What is it?”</p>
<p> “Sir Wilde,” Tzak said, and Grizzop surged forward, grabbing her shoulders.</p>
<p> “What about him?” he growled, shrugging Vesseek off when they tried to settle him. “Is he hurt - did that <em>human</em> hurt him?”</p>
<p> “I don’t - I don’t know,” Tzak said shakily. “Sire, they’re <em>gone.</em> I didn’t think - ”</p>
<p> Grizzop let Vesseek pull him away, now, Tzak’s explanations washing over him without sinking in. His ears drooped, a dull despair settling on his shoulders. He could hear Vesseek saying something low and urgent, their voice comforting in its surety. “We will gather a search party and find him,” they said. “Go and - ”</p>
<p> “No,” Grizzop said. Tzak and Vesseek turned to face him, startled. “Return to your post, Tzak. Forgive me for snapping.”</p>
<p> “S-sire?” Tzak said hesitantly.</p>
<p> “All is well. Go.” Tzak glanced between him and Vesseek; Vesseek didn’t look at her, staring instead at Grizzop as if he were a particularly frustrating puzzle they were trying to piece together. Grizzop held Tzak’s gaze until she dropped into a bow and backed away, worry on her features.</p>
<p> “Do you intend to go after him alone?” Vesseek asked.</p>
<p> “I don’t intend to go after him at all,” Grizzop replied.</p>
<p> Vesseek blinked, jaw going briefly slack. “Sire,” they began, sounding as if they were very carefully restraining themselves. “May I ask why?”</p>
<p> “If he wants to leave, what recourse do I have, exactly?” Grizzop said, turning to look out at the forest. “Force him to stay? Sink to the level of his former masters?”</p>
<p> “Grizzop,” Vesseek growled, and Grizzop whirled on them, snarling.</p>
<p> “He left in secret, Vesseek,” he snapped. “What would you have me do, chase him down and confirm every fear he has about me?”</p>
<p> “And what if he didn’t?” Vesseek demanded, stepping forward, half a step away from too close. “What if his <em>friend</em> is stealing him back to Hades? Would you abandon him to that?” Grizzop hesitated, gritting his teeth. “You won that crown in a hunt,” Vesseek said tightly. “Are you going to roll over like this, now, after <em>everything?”</em></p>
<p> Grizzop let out a breath through his nose, glancing away from Vesseek’s heated gaze. “I - I can’t - ” he said. “Vesseek, he’s - ”</p>
<p> “Sire,” Vesseek said. They held out a hand. “Come on. You’ve never been one to waste time.”</p>
<p> Grizzop sighed. A faint breeze rolled in from the forest, carrying the scent of new leaves and damp soil; Grizzop seized Vesseek’s hand. “You’re right.”</p>
<p> “I always am,” Vesseek said, relief washing over their face in a wave. “To the stables?”</p>
<p> “No time,” Grizzop said. “We go on foot.”</p>
<hr/>
<p> The forest hummed with life, even as dark began to settle in the treetops. Grizzop bounded through the undergrowth, Vesseek a few steps behind and to his left. His mind was quiet, lethally so, like the footfalls of some great predator; he registered Wilde’s trail in some deep place, below thought, somewhere yellow-eyed and calculating. Perhaps if he thought about it, he would have wondered why a man stealing away in secret had made his trail so easy to follow, but he did not think about it.</p>
<p> When a shriek pierced the stillness, Grizzop was bolting towards it before the birds fled from it.</p>
<p> The clearing he burst into was so familiar by now; Grizzop could practically scent the old blood on the grass. In the center, Wilde stood over his ex-lover, eyes blazing, hair whipping in the sudden wind that howled through the trees, making the branches creak in protest. “Return to your king,” Wilde was saying, spitting the word like it was venom on his tongue. He was, Grizzop realized, shaking as if he were straining with effort, magic pulsing up his arms in silver waves, moonlight on a raging river.</p>
<p> “You bastard,” snarled the human at his feet. “You’re a fool, Oscar, you’ve always been - ”</p>
<p><em> “Shut up!”</em> Wilde snapped, waving an arm. Grizzop watched, transfixed, as silver wound its way around the human’s wrists, snapping into place with a decisive click, a water-fine length of chain snaking into existence between them. “Go back to Hades,” Wilde said, his voice and eyes ice. “If ever you loved me, then perhaps you’ll tell him I’m dead.” He lifted his sword, angling the tip of it beneath his captive’s chin, tilting his face up. “I suspect you won’t,” he breathed. “And in that case, tell him I have spent too much of my life serving ignoble men.” Wilde looked up, then, catching Grizzop’s gaze, a fierce, desperate, aching emotion crossing his features, and when he spoke again, he didn’t look away, his eyes locked on Grizzop’s. “And I never will again. <em>Never.</em> Not so long as my King will keep me.”</p>
<p> Grizzop nodded, once, unable to do anything else, half-suspecting he had been caught in the web of Wilde’s magic himself and not finding it in himself to care. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Wilde’s prey staggering to his feet and fleeing into the trees, but Grizzop couldn’t tear his eyes away from Wilde, wreathed in magic like moonlight, framed by the forest, his knight, his pack, <em>his.</em></p>
<p> “Sire,” Wilde said, quietly, and the lingering power of his spell burst like a soap bubble. He sank to the forest floor, letting out a shaky exhale. Vesseek shook themselves first and darted to his side, tossing their arms around his neck; Wilde let himself be held, leaning into Vesseek’s touch, shoulders sagging, arms wrapping gently around them.</p>
<p> Grizzop crossed the clearing slowly, each step careful and measured; Vesseek pulled back from Wilde to watch his approach, bowed and backed away when he paused before them. Grizzop nodded his acknowledgment to them, then looked down at Wilde. He was on both knees, not kneeling in a bow but collapsed in exhaustion, slumped and breathing heavily. Some of the intensity had left his gaze as he watched Grizzop, replaced with the seeds of doubt, budding fear that he had crossed some unknown line - that Grizzop could possibly be angry with him, in this moment.</p>
<p> Grizzop couldn’t bear it, to see such worry on his features. He cradled Wilde’s face in his palms and pressed one kiss to his brow, one to each sharp cheekbone, one to his lips. Wilde’s breath hitched. Around them, the forest let out a sigh. “Wilde,” Grizzop said, and his voice was strangled, unkingly, full with emotion. “My beloved knight.”</p>
<p> Wilde smiled, his eyes bright with tears, his hands coming up to hover at Grizzop’s wrists without quite daring to touch. Grizzop grasped them both, pulling them to his lips, peppering kisses along the ridges of Wilde’s knuckles. “I have no favors to offer you, sire,” Wilde whispered raggedly. “Only myself.”</p>
<p> “Come home,” Grizzop replied, leaning to rest his forehead against Wilde’s. “Come <em>home,</em> my noble knight.”</p>
<p> Wilde let out a breathless, disbelieving little laugh. “Home,” he repeated, and let his eyes close. “Of course, sire. Thank you.”</p>
<p> And so Wilde stood, and Vesseek threaded their arm with his and smiled up at him, and Grizzop led his knights from the forest back towards their kingdom, back towards home, and if they didn’t live happily ever after, then at the least, they came very close.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To be honest, I had a hard time finishing this because I've been having so much fun writing it, I wanted it to go on forever. Thank you all so much for all your comments and kudos and excitement, this was an absolute joy to write, in no small part thanks to all of you. &lt;3 And so, for now, the end.</p>
        </blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209703">[ART] King of a Wild Court</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouokaypanda/pseuds/areyouokaypanda">areyouokaypanda</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
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